


Summer's a Knife

by magicalmenagerie



Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Anthony and Edwina never date, Anxiety Attacks, Beekeeping, Certified clown Anthony, Cuddling, Discussions of death, Drinking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Environmentalism, Eventual friends with benefits relationship, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Golf, Government Agencies, Hurt/Comfort, Lawyer Kate, Local Politician Edwina, Newton is the most important character, Small Towns, Summer Vacation, a smidge of angst here and there, jk he's a business school douchebag, spoiler alert: they're terrible at it, this is pure self-indulgence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:06:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29832981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicalmenagerie/pseuds/magicalmenagerie
Summary: Kate is thrilled to visit Edwina for the summer as she begins her new job as a local politician. Anthony has only two weeks and a hasty plan involving a certain city councilwoman.Insults and maybe sparks fly when they cross paths along the way—and things just get worse from there.Obstinate Idiots Fall In Love By Accident, or really, a modern retelling of TVWLM with municipal drama, country clubs, bee farming, boats, and excessive swearing.
Relationships: Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield
Comments: 54
Kudos: 163





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of things:  
> 1\. This is set in America because I have no idea how local government works in the UK  
> 2\. I messed with the ages a bit (Anthony is early 30's, Kate is 27, and I aged Edwina up a bit to make it less weird)  
> 3\. Absolutely LOVE Kate Sharma but since we don't know much about her yet (and I started writing this a month ago lol) I thought it was best to stick to Sheffield for the purposes of this fic.

* * *

The month of July, Kate decided, was a reign of terror instituted by Mother Nature to get revenge on the human race for destroying the earth. Perhaps it was overdramatic of her to think that way, but she was never overdramatic, and everyone deserved a moment of irrationality every once in a while.

It had been only one week since she arrived in the touristy little lake town where she’d be living for the summer, supporting Edwina as she began her journey as city councilwoman and helping Mary move and set up her new shop, but the lack of air conditioning in every building (except for the mansions that bordered the northern edge of the lake, of course) was, simply put, appalling. 

But she’d promised Mary that she would watch over the store while she picked up a fresh crate from the honey supplier, and Kate was a responsible, eldest daughter who kept her promises.

She sat on a stool with heels propped up against the front counter and her law book resting on her knees. The air was hot and sticky, and she knew that when Mary returned and she inevitably had to peel herself out of her unladylike position, that it would sting the back of her thighs.

Edwina was wandering through the aisles of the shop, straightening out merchandise that was already perfectly placed—homespun yarn, novelty salt and pepper shakers, and scented candles among other locally sourced products—and chatting about her new job.

“-Councilman Mottram, you know, the middle aged one with the three kids and god-awful wife? Well, he told me yesterday that the _mayor_ said that the property tax hike would only account for somewhere around twenty percent of the budget and-Kate?”

“Yes?” Kate snapped her face away from the swivel fan that she was inelegantly craning her neck toward.

“I’m boring you, aren’t I?” Edwina gave a small self-mocking sigh.

“That’s not true,” Kate protested. “You were talking about the new property taxes and how that motherfucker in the city manager’s office is still insisting on allocating funds away from the school expansion budget.”

“Fine, I believe you,” Edwina grinned, walking over to the counter.

Kate made a face at her. “You expect so little of me, especially considering _I_ was the one who encouraged you to run for office.”

It was true, only a year earlier when the nonprofit that Edwina worked for had to shut down due to lack of funding, Kate insisted that she would be a shoo-in for local government. After only a week of needling, she became Edwina’s remote adviser for her campaign, helping with anything from picking the color of her posters to the proofreading her speeches that she had to read before city hall. 

“And for that I will be forever grateful,” Edwina said, “I just thought that you were so engrossed in,” she squinted at the cover of Kate’s book “ _Strategies and tactics for the multi-state bar exam-_ Christ, that’s dry.”

“Maybe so, but when I pass the exam and begin work in the winter, the Sheffield’s will be a badass triple threat of accomplishment—politics, law, business ownership—like a power couple, but a family,” she explained.

Edwina leaned against the opposite side of the counter and sniffed at some incense thoughtfully. “Power couple is a very realistic goal for you as well,” she said slyly.

The smile on Kate’s face dropped. “That’s hilarious.”

“Oh, come on,” Edwina whined “If you’d just _try—"_

“What if I prefer a trophy husband?” Kate argued childishly, “What if I decide to realign my preferences toward ethical non-monogamy and join a free-love commune? There are many ways I could pursue a relationship without becoming one half of a power couple,” she sniffed.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” Edwina rolled her eyes. “Ever since you got your J.D. you’ve been insufferable.”

Kate scoffed, “I’ve always been insufferable.”

“Stop changing the subject.”

Kate ignored her and snapped her book shut. “And what about your love life, hmmm? You’ve been with Bagwell for what—four years? And the second he decides to take a sabbatical abroad you guys call it quits? I feel like I’m not the only one that deserves to be lectured about men at the moment.”

Edwina clenched her jaw and avoided Kate’s assessing stare. “I’m not going to argue with you,” she said in a faux-sweet voice, “just because I’m so happy that you’re visiting for the summer. But all that stuff with Arthur—” her voice broke almost unnoticeably, “it’s complicated.”

While it cut through to her core to see Edwina so pained, Kate secretly thought that the separation would be good for them; time apart would make them realize how much they treasured their relationship. Edwina had always needed a little bit of a push to make changes in her life, whether it be running for office or taking the next step with her boyfriend, and this separation was a nudge in itself.

And besides, Kate had accompanied both of them to the mall before he left and saw how Bagwell’s eyes caught on the rings in the jewelry cases as they passed by. She was willing to bet her rent money that they’d be engaged within three months of his return to the country.

This was the ideal scenario because it yielded nieces and nephews to play with in addition to distracting Mary long enough so she didn’t shoot Kate a searching look whenever she brought up a male in conversation. On top of that, it wasn’t even a problem anymore that Edwina could fathomably marry someone named _Arthur Bagwell,_ because she was now a politician and wouldn’t trade in the sensible surname Sheffield for—well, _Bagwell._

“I’m sorry,” Kate said, her voice softening in a way it only did for Edwina, “I just want you to be happy so badly, and you’re the kind of person who should have someone to enjoy life with.”

“I am happy,” Edwina insisted. “This new job, being on council, making tangible change—It’s more than I ever thought I would do.”

Kate beamed at her. “I always thought you could, but I’m glad to hear that you finally agree.”

“I mean it certainly has its downsides,” Edwina said, shifting back into an animated chatter that Kate never saw on her sister lately. “Like, there’s this one guy who—”

The bell that hung against the door chimed.

Both sisters straightened and looked to the entrance to see a sophisticatedly dressed middle-aged woman and her daughter, who Kate guessed to be Edwina’s age, strolling into the small shop.

Kate scrambled out of her lounging position at the counter as fast as she could and hopped off the stool. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon with still no customers to be seen, so she was determined not to fuck it up, especially in front of these (obviously) rich people. “Good afternoon, ladies,” she called.

The older woman smiled warmly at her. “No need to stand up on our account just yet, you looked very comfortable.”

Kate dismissed that with a wave. “I needed to,” she said “I was about a minute away from laying flat across the counter.”

“Please proceed,” the daughter laughed. “We will probably have to smell each of these candles before deciding on one. More than enough time to get a good nap in.”

Both sisters chuckled. “Let me know if you need any help with that,” Kate said. Both women smiled at her and proceeded to do just as the daughter said they would. She turned back to Edwina “So, you were saying?”

Just as Edwina was about to open her mouth they were interrupted again, this time with Mary walking through the door with a large wooden crate in her arms. “Sorry that took so long, girls, I had the strangest conversation with the bee farmer—there are customers!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, and Kate didn’t scare them away,” Edwina snickered.

“I don’t think you’re qualified to criticize my sales tactics, Edwina. You’re legally prohibited from assisting local businesses because of your fancy government job.”

“You’ll be a fancy environmental lawyer soon enough,” Edwina assured, and then asked, “what were you going to say, mom?”

Mary waved her off, already focused on the women smelling candles. “I’ll tell you later. I need to go introduce myself.”

Kate and Edwina watched her walk away.

“What were we talking about?” Edwina asked.

“No idea.”

Mary must’ve worked relentlessly on her sales skills before opening because no less than five minutes later, she was on a first name basis with both customers and conversing amiably as she rang up five scented candles and a package of fresh honey at the register.

She had already captured Edwina into conversation in the process, all three women waxing poetic about the beauty and smarts of the newest member of city council (which Kate certainly approved of because Edwina deserved all the praise she received) when Kate began to retreat upstairs to wrangle Newton into taking a walk along the beach. Mary had other ideas, however, because just as Kate was about to make a getaway, she called her back to the counter. “Kate, come here, I want to introduce you to Violet and Eloise.”

Kate turned and greeted them with a pleasant smile. “Nice to meet you. Again.”

The older woman, Violet, laughed and told Mary, “She was an excellent greeter when we came in.”

“And who said lawyers weren’t friendly?” Mary commented. Kate groaned internally. Mothers, as far as she understood, were relentless in ignoring their daughter’s objections to being bragged about.

“Oh? How impressive,” Violet said more to Mary than Kate.

“Not a lawyer yet,” Kate interjected. “I just graduated, so I still need to pass the state exam.”

“And you’ll do wonderfully,” Mary assured. “She’s decided to stay here for the summer to study.”

“Where do you normally live?” Eloise asked.

“In the city. About an hour and a half north of here.”

“Most of my children live there, including my oldest sons who are about your age. Maybe you’ve seen them out and about,” Violet said.

Kate couldn’t help but notice that an amused smile arose on Eloise’s lips, but she said nothing.

“Well, it’s a big city. And with school I haven’t gotten out much,” Kate explained lamely. 

“All the more reason to celebrate now that you’re here!” Eloise said. Her mother looked at her for a moment, and then back to Kate and Edwina with newfound interest. “I think you’re right, Eloise,” she murmured.

“I do like the country a lot, actually,” Kate said, not quite understanding what was happening. She glanced at Edwina, who looked just as puzzled as she felt. “I think I’d like to live somewhere out here when I get older and settle down.”

“You sound just like my oldest,” Violet said. Eloise looked like she wanted to laugh out loud.

“Well, I couldn’t imagine a person who wouldn’t feel that way—”

The statement was cut off when Violet looked sharply back at Mary. “Why, I’ve just had a great idea, Mary.”

“Oh?”

“Why don’t the three of you stop by the country club this evening? I know it’s short notice, but they’re hosting a big get together and I’d love to have you three as my personal guests.”

“That’s so kind of you, Violet, but I really have so much to do.”

Violet leveled her with a kind stare. One so practiced, that Kate became suspicious it was an expression she often used to get people to listen to her. “I insist.”

Mary was no match for it. “Oh, all right!”

The two women began working out the details of the arrangement, and meanwhile Edwina began talking happily with Eloise. Kate didn’t intervene because she was sure Edwina also could use some new friends now that Bagwell was gone.

Feeling as though her presence was no longer necessary, Kate turned her back and started for the upstairs apartment again, but before she left the room, she heard Mary ask one more question. 

“Violet, what surname should we give at the door when we arrive?”

“Oh! I almost forgot. Tell them that a Bridgerton sent you.”

* * *

Anthony Bridgerton was growing old. Old enough to have the propensity to believe that every event that included his family was bound to end in horrible disaster. That’s why he strode suspiciously around the deck of the country club, whiskey in hand, looking for something to fix.

He was on a two week long break from work, but even vacationing at one of the several Bridgerton summerhouses still came with its responsibilities. He was the oldest brother and thus had been left with the task of playing father-figure to seven younger siblings after his dad died. And while he tried to project a carefree, brotherly façade to the world, he was also suspicious that he failed miserably at that.

One would think vacation would be the perfect opportunity to detach from these anxieties, but they actually increased tenfold when they were away at the summerhouse. Sure, he could get some exercise or drink beer with lime while sitting in the sun, but as stand-in patriarch he learned that if something wasn’t immediately amiss then it damn well would be in five minutes.

And that was the issue—things were going strangely well so far. He’d been in residence for nearly 24 hours and he hadn’t had to yell at Eloise and Francesca for smoking weed inside, no one had taken the convertible out for a joyride at midnight, and most miraculously, not a single one of his younger siblings had crashed a golf cart into the fountain yet. _Maybe this year they would set a new record,_ he thought optimistically, but deep down in his soul he knew being that optimistic about a Bridgerton’s ability to behave was abysmally fucking stupid.

“Anthony, please stop prowling around like that. It’s unbecoming for someone your age,” his mom interjected. She came up beside him just when he decided to make a beeline for the clubhouse to make sure all the carts were in order.

“Should it really matter if it’s unbecoming? I have no one to impress here,” he gestured to the same group of rich acquaintances that showed up to the lake at this time every year.

A knowing smile crept to Violet’s lips. “You never know when someone important will drop in,” she said lightly.

He fought the urge to groan. “You didn’t.” 

“They are perfectly nice and accomplished young women. Funny too!”

“There are _several_ of them?” he asked incredulously.

“Sisters,” she explained crossing her arms, “one of them even lives near you.”

He sighed. “Can’t you just,” he waved his free hand around in a shooing motion, “peddle Benedict or Colin out to them? I’m busy.”

“Busy stomping around like a moody teenager? I thought that was Gregory’s job.”

Anthony didn’t merit that with a response.

“Oh! There they are!”

Anthony felt a tug on his sleeve, but he held stern. “Not this time, mom—” but when he looked toward the young women and their mother, his breath stopped short.

There, standing under the glow of the warm lanterns, was the answer to one of his many problems. Edwina Sheffield. _Councilwoman_ Edwina Sheffield.

It was as if God himself looked down on Anthony and declared, “I’m gonna give this guy a break.”

At his side, an expression of hope and surprise lit up his mother’s features. She could see the shock on his face, could feel his heart skip a beat.

And in that split-second, with his mother’s naïve optimism next to him and godsend across the patio, his world slipped away. The glimmer of champagne glasses, the milling women in oversized sunhats, and even the flitting notes of the piano all disappeared, and the pieces to the puzzle fell into place perfectly in front of him. All he had to do now was walk.

“Mom,” he said, not bothering to push the interest out of his voice, “I can take care of this myself.”

He could tell she was about to protest, but he interrupted. “I am well versed in these matters,” _even if they are not the matters you think of,_ he added to himself. And for her benefit he slapped a boyish smile on his face. _That’ll fool her._ “Trust me.”

She eyed him impatiently. “Okay, but I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

“I’m sure.” And with that, he swept away toward Colin who was talking in a group near the bar.

When Anthony reached him, he whispered in his ear. “I need your help with something.”

Colin eyed him warily. “If this is about the fountain again—”

“No,” Anthony cut in. “It’s about women.”

It hit the mark as well Anthony expected it to, because Colin’s head perked up the same way a duck’s did when you tossed it a piece of bread. He excused himself immediately and turned to his older brother with an ornery smirk on his face.

“You see those three over there?” Anthony tilted his head toward Edwina Sheffield and the two women who accompanied her.

Colin snuck a quick glance in their direction. Anthony never had to remind him to be sneaky.

“Pretty girls,” he commented wryly.

Anthony considered this for a second. Should he tell Colin the truth behind his plans? _No,_ his gut told him, and he answered his brother accordingly.

“Exactly my thoughts,” he said.

“Which one do you want me to whisk away with the mother?” Colin asked astutely.

Anthony stole a glance at the two young women. Edwina was petite with a fair complexion and unassuming demeanor. The other one, the one that Anthony did not know (who he had to get out of the way), was slightly taller with dark hair and warm eyes that pierced through her surroundings in measured assessment. She commanded the space she inhabited in a much more assertive way, and for some reason, it made him uneasy.

“The tall one,” he told his brother firmly.

Colin raised his eyebrows and studied his brother. “An interesting choice for you, but I won’t argue.”

Anthony patted Colin on the shoulder. “Thank you.”

Colin laughed. “I require more than a thanks, Anthony.”

Anthony fixed his younger brother with a glare. “You’re a jackass, you know that, right?”

“Takes one to know one,” Colin chirped, still looking at him expectantly.

“I’ll tell you where I hide the good brandy,” Anthony offered exasperatedly.

“Where?”

“Behind the Dickens in the bookcase on the third floor.”

Colin hummed happily and turned toward the group of women who were still looking around the patio for a place to settle. Before he started toward them, he muttered “how generous of you,” and Anthony knew that he picked the right person for the job to set his plan in motion. 

* * *

Kate had never been to a country club before because her late father, while mildly wealthy, never overtly tried to push himself into rich social circles. She was glad of this, looking around the patio at the stiff elderly couples and polished landowners in golf shoes, because she felt pretty out of place in her thrifted sundress and five-year-old sandals.

But even though Kate thought she didn’t quite belong there on the wooden terrace that overlooked the expanse of lake in the moonlight, she had to admit that this place, this stuffy country club in all its glory, had one of the more beautiful views she’d ever seen. It was a shame that she would never return.

After a minute or so of taking the view in, Kate and her family were greeted by an eager Violet Bridgerton. They exchanged quick pleasantries, but Violet seemed distracted (Kate assumed this could be attributed to the eight children she had roaming around the property) and left them almost immediately, promising to catch up with them after she took care of some business. Kate noticed her eyeing the bar where a small group of people were standing, but she didn’t see anything of note in the vicinity.

Once they were left on their own again, Kate turned to Edwina. “Eager to introduce yourself to all your wealthy constituents?”

Mary hit her lightly on the back of the shoulder. “Behave,” she warned, “We are guests of Violet, who is very kind to us, and we don’t want to appear ungrateful.”

Kate, of course, had no intention of being rude to anyone there. She was snarky and slightly uncouth, but never rude. Especially not to pleasant women who commanded respect.

“You don’t need to worry, Mary. I was just pointing out to Edwina that all these people—these business and property owners, people who change their permanent address to out here to evade the higher taxes in the city, may take a keen interest to her.”

“I assure you that I won’t get caught up in scandal and bribes,” Edwina laughed. “White men in boat shoes don’t scare me.” 

“Edwina!” Mary exclaimed. Kate gave her sister a high five.

Edwina rolled her eyes at her mother. “I’m sure the people here have enough money in the bank to afford a little poking fun.”

Mary didn’t respond and Kate could tell it was because she agreed. All she did was frown at Kate. “You’re rubbing off on her,” she said.

The three women chatted a moment longer, and just when they resolved to get a drink from the bar, a man, maybe a year or two Kate’s senior with chestnut hair and striking green eyes, appeared in front of them.

“Good evening, ladies,” he greeted smoothly. Kate was immediately suspicious of his intentions.

She stepped forward. “Kate Sheffield,” she announced and held out her hand to shake. He took it.

“A pleasure.” Then he turned questioningly to Edwina.

“Edwina,” she said sweetly. He nodded as if he already knew.

Kate looked madly around for Mary but she was gone, having instantly melted away at the sight of an eligible man, no doubt.

The man in question assessed them amusedly but without condescension. How he managed that feat, Kate had no idea, but she respected the maneuver. “I’m Colin Bridgerton,” the man introduced, “and if I heard correctly, you two and Mrs. Sheffield were invited by my mother?”

Kate nodded in confirmation.

“I’m so sorry about that. This party is probably the worst one on the lake tonight,” he confided, mostly to Kate.

“Well, there are at least free drinks here, right?” she asked.

Colin barked out a laugh. “Yes. And what’s your drink of choice?”

“I can make do with any dark liquor.”

“If that’s a ploy just to gouge the club of their most expensive brandy, then I commend you, and if it’s just fine taste then I commend you some more.”

“It’s a little bit of both,” Kate admitted and they both snickered.

“Why don’t we go to the bar, then?” he asked.

“Sure,” Kate said, delighted to have a new friend, even if he was a flirt. “Edwina?” she prompted.

Her sister, who had been watching the exchange with interest but looked as if she had no interest in participating, waved her off. “I’m going to go look at the lake,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”

And with that, Colin Bridgerton began dragging Kate toward the bar. Once they were situated with matching glasses of French brandy, he looked at her knowingly. “You seem close to your sister.”

Kate nodded and took a sip. “I’m older than her by a couple of years, and our dad passed less than a decade ago,” she explained. “I just feel the need to protect her.”

“That’s a very ‘oldest sibling’ of you.”

“Are you one too?”

“No, I’m the third oldest,” he confessed. “I love avoiding responsibility.”

Kate sighed and looked out at the lake. “I wouldn’t be very good at that. I need more purpose to function or I might explode from boredom.”

“You sound like my oldest brother,” Colin said dryly.

“Even though there’s eight of you I keep hearing about him,” Kate narrowed her eyebrows, “odd.”

“He’s right over there, actually,” he gestured lazily with his glass, “with Edwina.”

With that, Kate snapped her gaze away from the lake and zeroed in on a pair of figures on the end of the patio. Edwina had been cornered— Kate could tell from her body language. The slightly displeased tilt of her head, the way she stood straight with her arms crossed in front of her. Everything about her stance said that she was wary of whatever was going on, and Kate didn’t like it one bit.

“Oh, Jesus fucking—” she whined, downing the last of her drink in one go.

“What is it?” Colin looked at her half-alarmed, half-interested.

“My sister is clearly uncomfortable. We should go help her out of this.”

“Don’t you think she would leave herself if she wanted to?” Colin asked. “She’s what—twenty-four?” he wagered. “She seems like she can take care of herself.”

Kate froze. “Of course, but—”

Colin innocently raised his eyebrows at her. Kate batted down a tinge of anger. She was starting to grow annoyed with him.

“My sister is basically engaged!” she argued. “She shouldn’t be—” she looked at them again, where a tall man with hair the same color as Colin was leaning slightly forward and talking purposefully to her sister. Edwina’s stance had softened slightly as if he had won her favor by the smallest amount. “She shouldn’t be getting _cajoled_ by your brother.”

Colin frowned at her wording. “Anthony’s not such a bad guy. He’s the CSO of my dad’s old company. He’s all about mitigating risk and managing situations. He’s not going to do anything stupid—” he stopped and frowned some more. “Well, actually I take that back. But I promise he’s harmless.”

During his monologue, Kate had gotten up from her chair and began craning her neck for a better look at them. Nothing Colin said had made the situation any better—in fact, it made it much worse. Chief security officers were generally, in Kate’s humble opinion, corporate vultures who found ways to bypass environmental and health regulations to garner higher profits. She was willing to bet that Anthony Bridgerton had an entourage of scummy fossil-fuel lobbyists who he sat in leather-back chairs and chuckled evilly with.

She couldn’t have an asshole like that flirting with Edwina when she had perfectly nice, PhD candidate, Arthur _fucking_ Bagwell ready to pop the question when he returned.

“Colin,” Kate said in a shockingly calm voice, “Could you intervene and get Edwina away from your brother? I don’t like this.”

“Sure, but you should come with me.”

She shook her head. “I shouldn’t.” When it came to protecting her sister, her temper had gotten her in trouble one too many times. She didn’t want to risk the respect of Violet or embarrass Edwina by getting out of hand.

“You have to,” Colin said firmly. “My brother is far too dominating and would dismiss me immediately.”

“Fine,” she sighed. “But I need another drink.”

Colin chuckled and stood up. Then he glanced between the dangerous look on Kate’s face and followed her gaze to his unassuming brother on the far side of the terrace. “Are you going to kill him?” he asked, with increasing interest. 

She shrugged. “Only if he asks for it.”

Colin beamed. “I like you, Kate Sheffield,” he declared.

That wasn’t quite the response she was expecting, but it was a good one, nonetheless. They stood up, made a quick stop at the bar for another brandy and headed toward Anthony and Edwina who were still in conversation of indiscernible tone. Kate would have liked to eavesdrop for a few moments to get an idea of what they were talking about, but Colin strode forward confidently and announced to Edwina that Mary was looking for her. Edwina smiled gratefully. Anthony glowered at him.

Kate had a similar reaction to the elder Bridgerton. Colin said that he needed her help to get Edwina away, but that clearly wasn’t a problem.

When Edwina was out of earshot, Kate saw Anthony turn to Colin. “What,” he pronounced, “the ever-loving _fuck_ was that for?” he demanded. “You were supposed to help me!”

“The older Miss Sheffield wished to speak to you in private,” Colin said with a brilliant smile on his face. “We were just talking, and she had a lot of great things to say about you.”

Kate let out a scoff. _That_ was a bald-faced lie.

“Oh,” Anthony said, softening to his brother. “Do you think gaining her approval would help with Edwina?”

“Oh yes,” Colin assured. “I definitely think so.”

“Well then, lead the way,” Anthony said brightly. “Where is she?”

Before Kate could retreat, Colin reached around the oblivious elderly couple that she was using as a shield and dragged her into sight. The look of shock on the older Bridgerton’s face when he realized that she had overheard them was priceless. Kate was well past that reaction and just stared daggers at Colin. 

Country clubs, she decided, were just as bad as she thought.

* * *

Looking back, Anthony’s introduction to Kate Sheffield was something out of a horror movie. One moment he was just making the tiniest amount of headway with Edwina, and the next she was being shooed away by Colin with her menacing sister in tow.

And menacing was the right word to use. When the older Sheffield sister was dragged from the crowd of polo shirts and khakis by his brother, she looked like she wanted to kick Colin. The next moment, when she gave up on wounding him and trained her look on Anthony, the disdain in her eyes grew so sinister that it reminded him of that witch from Sleeping Beauty, and Colin was smiling madly like the little crow that accompanied her.

As taken off guard as he was, Anthony tried to appear unbothered. If this woman decided she hated him on-sight (he hadn’t the slightest _why_ , but some people were just like that) then he would do the most condescending thing he could do and take the “moral high-ground.”

It was usually the perfect strategy for him because it provided enough ammunition to not be brought down by his enemies, and in this instance, it ensured that if Edwina were to hear about whatever was going to happen, that he would come off looking innocent. If Edwina thought he was a bad person, that would ruin everything, after all.

Anthony wanted to be first to introduce himself, but Miss Sheffield bested him for the first time and barged forward, shaking Colin off her wrist and sticking out her hand. “Kate Sheffield,” she announced in a firm voice.

Anthony stared at the determination in her brown eyes and glanced to Colin, who was watching them like it was one of those trashy reality shows he liked binge.

He looked back to Kate with a tight smile. “Anthony Bridgerton. Nice to meet you.” He was unsurprised to find that she had a good, firm handshake. 

“Likewise,” she bit out and dropped her hand. 

“Colin said you wanted to speak to me?”

Kate shook her head in the negative. “I think Colin is a con-man in the making.”

“An astute observation,” he commented.

“Kate had some opinions about you talking with Edwina,” the con-man in question piped up.

Kate leveled him with a dangerous expression but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Oh?” Anthony asked.

Kate turned back to him, accepting her fate. “I’m afraid you’ve made a misstep already, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Call me Anthony,” he said. “And what would that be?”

“My sister is basically engaged, and it looked to me like you were aiming to gain her romantic attention. I just wanted to tell you that it’s all in vain.”

Anthony deflated. While Edwina being taken didn’t matter to his actual end goal, it certainly fucked over his cover-up. He wasn’t sure why he thought this scheme would continue without problem. Nothing he ever planned for went right, and it was becoming increasingly apparent that nothing ever would.

He shot a look at Colin, whose gaze was bouncing between them like he was watching a rather exciting tennis match. “Hey Colin,” Anthony said, “Could you do me a quick favor and get the fuck out of here? Thanks.”

“It would be a favor to me too,” Kate murmured. Both brothers ignored her.

Colin tutted. “That’s no way to talk to your brother who now knows the location of your prized brandy,”

“That’s no way to talk to your brother who could trade the bottle with bleach,” Anthony mimicked conversationally.

Kate Sheffield, he noticed, snorted at that comment.

“Fine,” Colin said churlishly, then turned to Kate. “But you have to fill me in later.”

Kate rolled her eyes at him. “Go to hell, Bridgerton.” Anthony approved of the sentiment.

Colin gave them each a parting glance of dismay and disappeared.

Anthony turned back to Kate. “Now that the idiot’s gone, what would you like me to do?”

She scowled at him. “I think I’ve already made that clear. I want you to back off.”

“That’s interesting, I was under the impression that Edwina was an adult. One who could make her own decisions.”

“Edwina has trouble sticking up for herself.”

Anthony scoffed. “I would like to think an elected councilwoman has no trouble sticking up for herself.”

She fixed him with a heavy, insistent gaze and breathed angrily through her nose, much like a dragon about to breathe fire. Anthony had the bizarre desire to laugh out loud.

“What?” she demanded.

“Nothing,” he said, trying to push the corners of his lips down and failing.

“What?” she demanded again. Her nostrils flared some more, and all the attention he was paying to her face made him recognized that it was quite a nice one. Sure, Edwina had a sophisticated elegance about her, but her older sister was much more emotive, and her features were striking. To be frank, she was much more his type and it was weird that he hadn’t noticed until then.

“It’s just—you’re as lovely as your sister.” In the second that followed, Anthony recognized that he couldn’t have said anything more wrong or more right to this woman. She froze on the spot, and her face, previously alight with fire under the warm lanterns scattered about the patio, turned icy cold in an instant. “Oh, _fuck off,_ ” she growled.

Satisfaction washed over him and he threw his back in laughter. He liked how easy it was to have an effect on her. He liked how easy it was to get under her skin.

They were now attracting attention from the crowd, but Anthony couldn’t bring himself to care, he just kept staring at Kate Sheffield, who was looking at the ground and tapping the heel of her shoe impatiently on the wood.

“Oh, are you going to step on my foot now?” he taunted.

Kate steeled herself and looked back up to him. “Why? Are you afraid that you forgot your thick shoes?”

“No, just worried you’ll do something you regret,” he returned.

She laughed. “I assure you that there are no regrets in my future.”

“You wound me.”

“Then that must be some thin skin you’ve got there,” she shot back, a victorious grin on her face.

“Maybe so,” he admitted. “But is this really only about Edwina?”

“You flatter yourself. This certainly isn’t about _you._ ”

“Isn’t it?” he challenged.

“Edwina is taken and uninterested. You will never go out with her,” she vowed. “She trusts my judgement, too, and I will do everything in my power to convince her to stay away from you.”

“I’m afraid you’ve already lost that battle, though,” Anthony said smugly, leaning closer to her (although he had no idea why), “because it turns out I have a meeting scheduled with her tomorrow morning.”

Kate was stunned into enraged silence. Anthony thought she was just about to retreat, raise the white flag, but then she started forward and promptly stomped the tip of her heel into his toe.

“Invest in better shoes next time, _Anthony_ ,” she spat, then turned on her heel and stalked away.

Anthony watched her retreat, entranced, with a mixture anger, shock, and some other third thing brewing inside him. _Anthony._ He thought for a moment about her how her lips said his name. _Anthony._

_Hmm. That was odd._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an irrational fear (ha) of posting before I finish writing so this is my first multi-chapter fic. Hope you like it!  
> yes the title is taylor swift lyrics don't @ me


	2. Chapter 2

On the way home from the party Kate was relentless.

She sat in the passenger seat, glued to her phone and frantically asking Edwina over text about her conversation with Anthony. Maddeningly, her sister just fixed her with a raised eyebrow and amused grin and ignored the messages.

Kate silently rioted about the fact that she couldn’t ask Edwina out loud, but she didn’t want Mary hearing about her bad behavior at the party. Leave it to a sister to take advantage of that fact.

When they returned to the shop, Kate prepared to pounce on Edwina but she fled into her silver sedan, faking some imaginary illness so she wouldn’t have to stay for a chat and a cup of coffee with Mary.

And so Kate was restless all night. Why was Edwina being so resistant to her questions? She couldn’t possibly be interested in that contemptible man. Before bed she tried typing out several strongly worded text messages to her sister, but Kate ended up deleting them. Even worse, the only thing peep she got out of Edwina was a cryptic _its not what you think i’ll explain to you later :)_

The next morning was not much better. As Kate was filling Newton’s dog bowl for breakfast, an unpleasant memory accosted her: Anthony Bridgerton, looming over her and saying _I have a meeting scheduled with her tomorrow morning._

Kate shivered and nearly dropped the bag of kibble on Newton’s paw.

“ _Fuck,”_ she proclaimed to the empty kitchen. Newton just barked up at her in response. He had finished his meal in less than a minute and interpreted her declaration as an opportunity to get more food.

She glanced down at him, an idea sprouting in her mind. “Do you want to go on a _walk?_ ” she cooed. He barked happily at her, recognizing the word, and trotted over to his leash.

She ran around the apartment, first changing out of her pajamas and lacing up a sensible pair of shoes, and then met Newton by the door with her breakfast (an apple and a hunk of cheese) hanging out of her mouth. She scrambled out the door with the excited corgi bounding in front of her and they passed through the shop on her way outside. “Newton and I are going out,” she called to Mary as they left. Mary didn’t even look up from her decorative teapots to say goodbye. She wasn’t terribly fond of dogs.

When they stepped outside, Kate glanced up to the sky. It was a clear blue with not a cloud in sight. She sighed in relief. Whenever she walked somewhere she had to make sure there wasn’t rain coming, just in case.

The weather app wasn’t always reliable and nothing could be worse than getting stranded outside during a thunderstorm, but the forecast seemed accurate that day with the summer heat unrelenting on the black tarmac of the street. It was so intense that she and Newton walked on the grass alongside the road to keep his paws from getting too hot.

The route they were taking to city hall didn’t allow sidewalk access, but it was too late in the morning to risk taking the long way through town. They could walk past the ice cream parlor and the library on the way back where Newton was sure to get his share of attention from old ladies and families with children.

They were both panting and a little sweaty when they made it to the old brick building that was city hall, but their arrival was anticlimactic. There was no traffic in or out of the building and a car hadn’t driven by on the street for several minutes. Kate looked around absently and decided to settle by a large oak tree that sat in full view of the door and the parking lot, near the forest preserve that bordered the building.

She tied Newton to her wrist, took her prep book out of her bag, and sat back against the tree. Newton still stood, opting to sniff the roots snaking through the lawn.

Waiting was pretty peaceful for a while but Kate couldn’t manage to pay attention to her book for more than a page or two. She was too distracted with the thought of what she would do or say when Edwina inevitably came out or Anthony inevitably went in. She was aware the time of the mysterious meeting could have already passed, but her gut told her it hadn’t, which meant she was bound to intercept one of them (provided he wasn’t lying about it all in the first place).

She also had to grapple with the fact that she had impulsively shown up unannounced liked some crazed bodyguard. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Edwina or her judgement; it was _him_ that she didn’t trust, and Kate knew that Edwina wouldn’t glance at her phone until lunch, so there was no other way to stop them other than to wait outside with a watchful eye.

After sitting under the tree for nearly 45 minutes, Kate grew less sure that she’d see either of them. It was nearly 11 am and still no one had gone in or out of city hall aside from a man in a public works truck with whom she had a pleasant conversation about tree-killing beetles.

Newton was growing antsy, pulling on her arm insistently to get a better look at the forest, and Kate couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. She hated to sit in one place for too long, but she had to hold firm for Edwina’s sake. Once 11:15 passed, she would pick herself up and walk back to the apartment.

And once she thought about it some more, it was pretty likely that he was lying about the meeting. He simply wanted to gain the upper hand, and she knew first-hand that rich men lied all the time whether it be in real life or negotiations.

The thought soothed her. Edwina was not at risk with jeopardizing her relationship with Bagwell, and she could slip away from city hall unnoticed and not appear crazily protective. _In fact,_ she thought shutting her book _,_ _I could treat myself to soft serve on the way back and—_

“I can’t believe you actually came,” a voice said above her.

Kate’s heart slammed in her chest. “Jesus!” she exclaimed, looking up to Anthony Bridgerton.

“Actually, never mind, I can believe it.” He stood with his hands in his pockets, looking like he was dressed for a business meeting instead of a date (the animal part of Kate’s brain also decided he looked very good, but that was beside the point).

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to sneak up on people?” she demanded.

“It’s not my fault your guard dog didn’t warn you,” he eyed Newton who was pulling on her wrist again, trying to jump at his legs. Kate reached out and took the scrambling corgi into her arms.

“He’s a baby, not a guard dog.”

He stared down at them, one corner of his mouth tilting upward. “I can see that.”

Kate stared back up, their brown eyes locking. An odd rush of something traveled quickly down her spine, causing her to blush. She quickly glanced away at Newton, who was still jumping in her lap and cleared her throat. “I’m surprised you didn’t try to sneak past me.”

“And miss a chance to see you getting pulled around like ragdoll?”

“I am great at managing Newton,” she protested.

He barked out a laugh. “No, you’re not. And I know from experience your dog isn’t the only thing you lose control of.”

“Enlighten me, what would those other things be?” she asked primly.

“Your temper. Me.” he offered with a devastating smile.

Kate blushed and fought to keep her composure. “I’m not trying to control anyone. It’s called protecting your siblings.”

“And yet you’re doing a horrible job of it,” he countered. “My appointment is scheduled in five minutes.”

“Appointment?” she echoed.

His voice took on a patronizing tone. “Let me guess, you assumed Edwina and I were going out on a brunch date?”

“Well, yes,” she admitted hesitantly. 

“Then you must be pleased to hear that we haven’t gotten there.” He paused and took a step forward, “yet.”

Kate seethed. She had to crane her neck even more from her place on the ground to meet his dark eyes. He must have done it to irk her, to make her sweat even more. “Why are you being so persistent? You could go out with any other woman in this town. I know Edwina is practically perfect, but you barely know her. Just leave her alone!”

He gave a self-satisfied grin. “You think I could go out with any other woman in this town?”

“You know what I mean,” she ground out. 

Anthony shrugged. “I’m sure you pride yourself on knowing the inner workings of the male mind. You figure it out. Or ask your boyfriend,” he offered.

She glowered at him.

He grinned back. He knew full well that she didn’t have a boyfriend. 

“I—” She was just about to say something especially witty (or at least she told herself that) when Newton, who she had almost forgotten about in her argumentative fervor, broke free of the leash.

Kate didn’t know how it happened. He had been tightly secured to her wrist but somehow he managed to slide threw her hands like a particularly furry piece of soap. Then he took off toward the forest preserve at top speed.

Kate watched, frozen in horror as he disappeared behind a large bush.

She had no thoughts aside from _no,_ but her body thankfully knew what to do. In an instant she sprang off the ground and broke into a run, Anthony Bridgerton and his infuriating comments long forgotten.

* * *

“Newton! Newton come back!” Kate screamed and sprinted toward the woods.

Anthony blinked, experiencing some form of emotional whiplash. One moment he was engaging in a delightful argument with Kate and the next, her ill-behaved animal leaped away and captured all of her attention.

He watched as she stopped short at the edge of the woods, looking for the right place to enter the dense brush.

Anthony didn’t remember deciding to chase after her, but somehow he ended up at her side.

“I think he saw a rabbit,” she moaned and tried pushing a branch aside.

“Don’t bother, there’s an entrance to a running path right over there,” he pointed. “It goes through to the other side and the trees clear up.” The words were barely out of his mouth when she brushed past him and raced onto the dirt path.

Anthony followed quickly behind and soon they were racing through the trees. Kate led the way off the path once the forest opened up and cut back south to where Newton was presumably still scampering after a woodland mammal. He was unsurprised to find that Kate was fast and graceful runner, leaping over fallen logs and sidestepping uneven terrain with ease with her dark hair flowing behind her.

Anthony kept pace with her easily, eventually overtaking her and peeling away to cover more ground. He vaguely wished he hadn’t worn such a damn uncomfortable pair of loafers, but he couldn’t find the energy to care when he accidentally splattered them in a spot of mud.

Several minutes later, Kate was still yelling out to Newton over panting breaths as she slowed her pace to a defeated stop. Anthony paused about thirty paces east of her and called out, “Where would he go?”

She shot him a withering look. “Do I look like I would know the best place to hide in the woods?”

His reflex was to answer _yes, you do,_ but He figured that she was under enough stress without him making it worse. Instead, he reasoned, “Well, he’s your dog.”

“Excellent point, Anthony, I’ll just join up with corgi hivemind and ask around,” she snapped.

“I’m trying to help! Maybe you should’ve had a better hold on the beast.”

She rounded on him. “Maybe you shouldn’t have distracted me from letting him go.”

He looked at her incredulously. “So this is _my_ fault now—?”

“Wait—” she interrupted, holding out her hand to shush him.

“What?”

“Bridgerton, shut up!” she shouted, then paused and craned her neck in the direction of the south. “Do you hear running water?”

He listened for a moment. “Yeah, I think there’s a shallow creek that feeds into the lake over there.”

She gasped and ran off without warning. Anthony watched her exasperatedly for a second— _how did he get himself into this?_ —before chasing after her. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but Kate seemed to be more trouble than any member of his family. Except for maybe Hyacinth, he conceded.

He caught up with her about halfway to the creek, and a minute later a rocky embankment came into view. Anthony raced forward with Kate hot on his heels. “Newton! Newton?” she called, close at his side.

They both paused for a moment once they reached the edge, listening for splashes of small paws in the water over their heavy breaths. Instead, an answering bark echoed in the air.

“Newton!” Kate screamed, and out of the corner of his eye, Anthony saw the creature come into view about 20 feet downstream. He made instant moves to charge in that direction, but his muddy shoe caught on a conveniently placed rock on the edge of the creek and he swiftly lost his balance. He heard Kate gasp beside him and a second later there was a large splash as he landed on his hands and knees in the creek. 

Newton took his demise as an invitation to come play, and bounded forward through the murky water, barking happily. The splashes from his paws jumped toward Anthony’s eyes, so he closed them and inhaled heavily, trying to regain composure.

Kate, meanwhile, had jumped into the creek herself and was soundly making her way towards Newton. Anthony wanted to scream when the splash of her footsteps caught on his face, but even if he were to begin yelling it would’ve been drowned out by the sound of her cooing as reached for Newton’s collar.

“Aww, Newton! There, I got you sweetie,” she said, wrapping him in her arms. Newton licked her face happily and she giggled, letting him lap at her smiling cheeks. Anthony silently acknowledged that the sight would have been cute if it weren’t for the fact that he was on his knees in the middle of a goddamn creek.

He stood up, water dripping slowly from his slacks, and watched murderously as the she-devil and her demon-creature silently coddled one another.

“Kate,” he started in a dangerously low voice.

She grinned at him. “Oh cheer up, we got Newton back!” She stepped toward him and held the corgi up to his face. “See? He likes you. For whatever reason,” she cackled as the dog started to lick at him.

He took a sharp step back, nearly tripping on a rock again. “You’re lucky I don’t kill you two right now!”

She frowned. “If you’ve ever watched a true crime documentary you’ll know that forest murders very rarely work out.”

He stared daggers at her. At least she had the mind to look sorry after that.

Once they carefully extricated themselves from the riot of rocks on the embankment, they set off back toward the running path in stony silence. Or, rather, he did. She seemed perfectly content with corgi in hand and soaked shoes. Her expression was suspiciously at-ease, and it took a moment for him to realize that it was because he undoubtedly missed his meeting with Edwina.

Anger coursed through him at the realization. He exploded, turning riotously to her and accusing, “You did this on purpose!”

She stopped short. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“You orchestrated all of this so I’d miss my meeting with Edwina!”

She rolled her eyes and propped a hand on her hip. “Oh yes, I’m at it again with that damn corgi hivemind. I told Newton, through brainwaves of course, ‘go forth into the woods, I have evil to orchestrate.’”

His eyes narrowed to slits. “Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Sheffield.”

”Nothing becomes you,” she shot back.

He felt his ears growing red but he managed to just barely contain his anger. “You let the damn dog go on purpose,” he spat.

“You’re out of your mind if you think that losing Newton is worth preventing you from seeing Edwina.”

“Based on your history of juvenile behavior, I don’t think that’s a very irrational jump in logic to make,” he said hotly. 

"Juvenile?! You're the one who throws a tantrum the second your stupid shoes get wet!" 

"Because you're a menace!" he shouted. 

“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?” she asked incredulously. “I’ll thank you for helping me get Newton back. But I won’t apologize because I didn’t sabotage your meeting!”

“Well, actually—”

“I didn’t sabotage your meeting the way you accused me,” she interjected.

He glowered at her for a long moment. It wasn't worth it and he knew that, but for some reason he couldn't make himself stop. She rendered him helpless to his emotions. “Let’s just go back.”

They made it to city hall lawn shortly after that. Kate hooked Newton to his leash again, making sure to double knot the broken area and tying him firmly to the tree as she gathered up her things.

Anthony stood nearby, watching moodily. He knew full well he couldn’t enter city hall like that and his scheduled time with Edwina had long passed, so he didn’t know what to do. Should he stalk away and head home? Should he drag Kate with him and demand she clean his shoes by hand? The prospect was tempting, but if he spent another moment with her he'd probably bust a blood vessel. 

Not to mention that it was hot enough outside that his clothes were already drying on his body—and the heat wasn’t only affecting him. Kate bent down and pulled water from her bag. She opened it up and gathered her shiny hair into one hand, sighing “It’s hotter than the first circle of hell out here.” Then she proceeded to dump half of its contents down the back of her neck.

“What—?” he was about to ask but his breath caught in his throat. His eyes had wandered to her skin and hung there distractedly as droplets of water dripped over her bare shoulders. A warm feeling twisted inside him, something suspiciously similar to _desire,_ he acknowledged bizarrely. He tried to bat the feeling down but it was moot. Kate’s cheeks were pink from exertion, and the expression on her face displayed a satisfaction that reminded him of something entirely inappropriate.

She was talking again and he'd barely noticed. “—or is it the ninth circle? I can never keep that straight.”

Even if he understood whatever the fuck she was talking about he wouldn’t have been able to answer. She dropped her hair as the wind blew and it fluttered hypnotically around her shoulders. Then the breeze brought its scent to his nose—a disarming yet intoxicating mixture of lilies and oddly, soap.

His insides burned. Partially with anger and partially with the baffling attraction. He wanted desperately for it to stop, but he indulged the feeling more by following the curving trail of water as it disappeared beneath her shirt. His mind spiraled into thinking about the places where the water had gone, with sweat dampening the top of her chest and her lips moving and— _God,_ he needed to stop.

He had to basically tear his eyes away from her when she bent over to drench Newton’s head with the rest of the bottle, but that didn’t work because his eyes roamed back to her a second later when she stood up.

He hoped it was a brief moment of madness, a fluke, but when she looked at him with her wide, dark eyes, it became apparent that he hadn’t shaken the feeling. It settled.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“You look like you’re going to implode.” She drew closer, squinting at him. It didn’t help the situation.

“I do not,” he insisted, ears turning even more red than before.

“I shouldn’t have dumped the rest of the water,” she frowned. 

_No, you really fucking shouldn’t have,_ he agreed silently.

“If you fall over dead, they’ll blame me.” She took another step closer. He inhaled a sharp breath and took a step back. “What—?” she started, but he didn’t hear the rest of the question because they were interrupted by a female voice calling from the parking lot. “Kate?” it said, “What are you doing here?”

* * *

At the sound of Edwina’s voice, Kate jumped in place and scrambled backward, putting several feet of space between her and Anthony. She didn’t want to think about how they got so close or why she was advancing on him like he was the origin of some magnetic field.

She looked desperately around as her sister came toward them, madly thinking of some excuse for being there. She should’ve known that Edwina would be leaving for her lunch break, and she silently chastised herself for it.

Edwina reached them a minute later. She stopped in her tracks at the sight of Anthony. “Mr. Bridgerton?” she asked and looked between him and Kate. “Why are you both all wet?”

Kate looked sheepishly at the ground. Anthony must’ve thought he was within his rights to speak for her because he said, “Councilwoman Sheffield, I’m sorry for missing our meeting. I ran into your sister on the way in, and her demon—”

“— _Dog,”_ Kate muttered.

“Decided to run away and have a swim in the creek. We had to chase after him.”

Edwina processed this and turned to Kate. “Is this true?” She didn’t look angry, just oddly amused.

“Yes. Newton and I were out for a walk when we saw him going into the building.”

He snorted at the lie. She shot him a hard look.

“Oh,” Edwina said slowly, “So you were on a walk with Newton with all your study materials?”

“We were headed toward the park,” Kate improvised.

Edwina smiled sarcastically. “Hmm, I’m sure.”

There was a beat of silence.

“So, I guess you need a ride home?” Edwina asked.

Kate shook her head. “I don’t want you to waste your break—” she argued.

Her sister waved her off. “I was going to the gas station to get a coffee anyway. It’s along the way.”

Kate nodded in resignation and picked up her things. Her sister untied Newton from the tree.

Once they turned toward the car though, Edwina seemed to realize something. “Mr. Bridgerton, do you need a ride too?”

Kate cursed Edwina for being so kind and lovely. A scumbag like Anthony would certainly take advantage of that.

“Thank you, that’s very kind.” His tone was sincere to the point of nausea.

Edwina smiled. “No, problem. We can drop Kate off first.”

Kate desperately wanted to argue, but she didn’t have a valid reason to. It was much more sensible to drive her home and leave the two of them alone in the car, assuming Anthony lived in one of the mansions on the northern edge of the lake.

Kate dropped her things in the trunk and slid into the front seat. She felt bad for getting her watery shoes all over the floor of Edwina’s Toyota, but her sister didn’t seem to mind. Newton seemed to mind even less because he jumped off of Kate’s lap and situated his wet body next to Anthony in the back seat.

She snuck at glimpse at them and had to suppress a chuckle. He fixed the dog with a stare and disdainfully muttered, “hello.” Newton responded by panting happily back at him.

Everyone was quiet as Edwina backed out of the parking lot, but tension hung thick in the air. Kate desperately wanted to yell just to cut through it, but not even Newton would appreciate that so she decided against it. The quiet still grated her though, so she said the first thing that popped into her head.

“Do you think that futon store on main street is a front for mob activity?”

Edwina looked at her like she was crazy. Anthony, the fuckwad that he was, just shook his head condescendingly. “It’s clearly for drug trafficking.”

She turned around to face him. “What makes you say so?” she challenged.

He frowned at her. “Where do _you_ think small towns like this get all their hard drugs?”

“The farmer’s wife who sells tomatoes out on highway 7,” she said sarcastically. “I don’t know, where does anyone get their hard drugs?”

“From vacant futon stores, apparently.”

“Oh, don’t act like all those rich people you know aren’t getting their high-end coke from the city.”

“I’m sure some of them have connections to organized crime and can get them whenever they want,” he countered.

“That’s what I’m saying!” she exclaimed. “Mob front!”

“Guys—” Edwina said in a loud voice. They both blinked at her. “I am a _government worker._ Stop yelling about recreational drug use in my personal vehicle.”

Kate frowned and faced forward again. “If anything, you should be thanking us for bringing light to the crime in your jurisdiction,” she muttered.

Anthony snorted. Edwina didn’t warrant it with a response, but Kate saw a small smile creep to her lips.

There wasn’t much time for further conversation because Edwina pulled up to the shop a minute later. Kate slowly exited the car, trying to think of a reason to delay the inevitable but nothing came to mind. “I should go upstairs and study then, I guess,” she said to her sister lamely.

“I’m sure the books are calling you,” Anthony agreed. She didn't look at him, but Kate could practically picture the look of superiority on his stupid face. She scowled, dodging a pointed look from Edwina, and scooped up Newton into her arms. Then Anthony made moves to get out of the car.

“What are you doing?” she asked once he slammed the door.

“Going to go sit next to your sister in the front. Why, do you have a problem with that?” he grinned. 

She huffed and barged forward. He looked alarmed for a second, but then she held Newton up to his face again. “Lick, Newton,” she ordered, and the dog did just that.

Anthony made a disgusted face and tried to back away. She and Newton just advanced on him further.

“Stop fucking doing that!” he shouted. Kate smiled triumphantly. “Sorry, Newton just loves to kiss people.”

He wiped the slobber from his face. “I retract my forgiveness from earlier.”

“I never even offered an apology, you asshole."

“Good!” He stalked towards the front seat and Kate tried to trip him on the way there. It didn’t work, and he made a crude gesture at her.

“Enjoy sitting in your creek scum,” she shouted as she shut the door.

A second later the engine started up and the car pulled away. Kate stood on the edge of the street and watched until it rounded the corner and out of sight. She tried to stop herself from picturing them in that enclosed space together, touching hands, laughing, or some other disturbing thing, but the images wouldn’t leave her.

Even though she tried to get in the last word, she couldn’t deny that he won that round.

* * *

Five minutes alone in the car with Edwina Sheffield isn’t what he originally planned, but Anthony knew he had to take what he could get.

When she pulled the car from the curb he was all business. “Councilwoman Sheffield, about the meeting today—”

She shook her head. “I can’t talk about work off the clock. You can call my secretary and schedule another meeting for Wednesday.”

“Not tomorrow? The timeline for the referendum to get on the ballot for next election is—"

Her voice took on a stern tone. “I have a meeting with Nigel Berbrooke tomorrow, Mr. Bridgerton. And from what I understand he is on a very similar time-crunch and values my meeting with him just as much as you do.”

Anthony softened at that. He was being too pushy, and that wouldn’t make him gain any favor with her. “Of course. I respect that you are even taking the time to meet with me. The other council members are being purposefully obtuse about this.”

She cracked a smile at this as she turned the steering wheel to the left. “Not obtuse exactly, just too busy trying to push around the budget money to serve their own purposes.” There was a slight pause as she narrowed her eyes. “Forget that I said that” she added.

“Said what?”

She smiled in thanks. Neither of them talked for a while, but Anthony still had questions racing through his head. It seemed that Berbrooke and his goddamn fucking _bees_ were still going to be a problem. The thought soured him. Maybe he could get Edwina to play ball for one second if he tried one more time.

He spoke quickly. “Okay, I actually just have one more question about—”

“Wednesday,” she admonished.

“Yes,” he nodded, giving up. “Wednesday.”

It was weird, but he thought about telling Kate that Edwina was infallible to his political pressures. He was sure she would be happy to hear it, but he could never tell her—he had to keep up the charade that he had some sort of romantic attachment to her sister so she wouldn’t talk. It was also kind of fun to watch how angry it made her when he alluded to flirting with Edwina, but that was just an added bonus.

Her voice cut through his thoughts. “So Eloise invited me to the party on Thursday.” 

“I’m glad to hear the two of you are getting along,” he said kindly. In reality, it made him a little weary of Edwina. Friends like Eloise and she-demons for sisters were bound to affect even the most well-mannered person. 

“Yes, me too,” she agreed. “I’m going to drag Kate along with me to the party too, of course.”

Anthony froze. The mental image of Kate Sheffield lurking in his house, in his study, in his bedroom was a dangerous one to entertain. 

He gulped and tried to find something polite to say. “I’m sure she’ll have a good time too. My mom ordered some great catering.”

“Mmm. Catering,” Edwina hummed, looking as though she wanted to say something else.

Neither of them spoke for a couple seconds, but just when Anthony thought he was in the clear, Edwina opened her mouth again.

“The two of you seem to have a pretty spirited relationship for only knowing each other for two days.”

Spirited was one way to put it. Anthony glanced at her. She was staring ahead as they drove past a long stretch of trees, her face carefully blank.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Forget I said anything then.”

The Toyota pulled up to the large circular driveway of the Bridgerton residence a couple minutes later. Anthony thanked the younger Sheffield profusely and apologized for getting creek water all over her car. Edwina was gracious as always, and when Anthony went to shut the car door, she called out “see you on Thursday” instead of goodbye.

As soon as he stepped inside the foyer he got ambushed by is mom. “Who was that in the car?” she asked, poking her head through the silky drapes.

Anthony kicked off his wet shoes. “Were you watching me from the window?”

Violet ignored him. “I thought I saw a woman in the front seat.”

Anthony knew he had to react as if he were actually dating Edwina, but the prospect of putting in that effort made him sag. The whole thing with the local government had more than just its logistical challenges; he had to polish his acting skills too. Or maybe just lying skills.

He avoided her gaze. “Did you?” _That was probably in-character enough for him_ , he decided.

“Oh, stop being so difficult,” his mom scolded. “Who is she?”

Anthony steeled himself and looked up at her evenly. “Edwina Sheffield.”

The look on her face betrayed an almost absurd excitement. He never dated any woman his mom foisted on him, or as she would put it, anyone she ‘introduced him to.’ She must be relishing that high.

“Did you have a nice time?”

“Splendid,” he said dryly. “Can I leave now?”

“Just one more question, Anthony,” she promised.

“What?”

“Why are you all wet?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo so this fic is going to diverge more and more from the book as it goes on, but the first 4ish chapters are pretty in-line with the original plot.  
> Chapter 3 is a monster and a half—it’ll be here Wednesday.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh so this chapter had me delving into some new territory writing-wise. Hope it came out well lol

* * *

Kate began maniacally texting her sister only fifteen minutes after she returned home. _That would be enough time for her to drop him off right? And get her coffee or whatever. There was a lot of time left on her lunch hour and there was no reason for Edwina not to answer,_ she thought to herself. Her mind was racing a mile a minute and she couldn’t wrangle her thoughts together fast enough, so all she could do was type what came to mind in a series of frantic questions:

_did you drop him off yet_

_What did he say in the car???_

_wait he didnt mention me right_

_Also you never explained what that convo at the country club was about..._

_AND you said that you would explain to me later and did you? No_

And then after a minute of waiting:

_I require information right now Edwinaaa !!_

Needless to say, spamming her sister didn’t yield a terribly excited reply. After five minutes of the pulsing chat bubble saying ‘…’ Kate got a single paragraph response.

_that conversation was just about city council stuff. He has a special interest in an upcoming ordinance vote, i promise nothing else is going on. Also he didn’t mention you did you want him to? BTW we are going to his house on Thursday bc El invited us and youre coming or else <3_

Kate stared down at her phone. An upcoming ordinance vote? She called bullshit. It was probably just some stupid male excuse to spend more time with Edwina. Even when her sister was explicitly in a relationship with good ole Bagwell, men still persisted. That’s how sought after she was. Now that they were on a break, it was probably open season on her poor sister.

On top of that, they were apparently going to a party where it would be that much worse. Even though her sister phrased the invitation like it was a threat, Kate would have insisted on going anyway. She couldn’t keep Edwina away from Anthony if she sat at home, now could she?

Much to Mary’s excitement, she was also invited to the party. And just like Eloise and Edwina, Mary and Violet had become fast friends, with Kate catching them chatting in the rocking chairs on the front porch of the shop at all hours of the day, as she went off to the library or to run an errand. Most of the time, Kate would walk past with a quick wave or stop only to converse for a couple of minutes. She thought it was best to give her mother some time to socialize. Now that she was a permanent resident in the small town, Mary needed to make connections with other people who lived there. Kate, who would rush back home at the end of August, did not.

They were sitting on the porch again on Wednesday afternoon when Kate returned from the grocery store.

“Hello Violet,” Kate greeted, deciding to be social and dropping the paper bags on the front steps.

“Kate, how are you?”

She smiled. “Very well, actually. They had baklava on sale in the bakery today so I bought a box.”

“That certainly would make anyone’s day,” Violet agreed.

“Made with fresh honey too,” Kate bragged.

“Oh, that reminds me of something!” Mary announced suddenly. “I was talking to Mrs. Berbrooke a couple of days ago, you know, she keeps a bee farm in her backyard to harvest their honey?”

Violet nodded. “Yes, I think their family has been doing that for some time now.”

“Well I went by the other day to pick up a new crate for the store supply, and when I arrived, she said that the local government was considering voting on a law that would make them unable to keep the bees.”

Violet narrowed her eyebrows. “How odd.”

Kate agreed with the sentiment. “You’d think they’d be able to come up with a series of guidelines to follow instead of completely shutting the farm down,” she said. 

“Maybe Edwina knows some more about the law,” Mary suggested. “I’ve been meaning to ask her, but I’ve been so distracted with getting the shop up and running.” 

Violet nodded sympathetically, bees apparently long forgotten. “Running a business is hard. My husband used to complain about it all the time,” she said.

“But mine is a much smaller operation,” Mary argued. “You must employ almost a third of the locals in the plant. I shouldn’t be complaining about a one-woman operation.”

“But you have to take on all the work yourself,” Violet reasoned. “I was so thankful when we were acquired by that medical company, I didn’t want Anthony to think he had to take on CEO just because my husband isn’t with us anymore.”

Like a reflex, Kate’s mind perked to attention. She hated the fact that just the mention of his name caused her to stiffen, but that wasn’t what caused her to pause; she didn’t know that Mr. Bridgerton was dead.

“Speaking of your son,” Mary said, “I ran into him at city hall this morning when I went to drop something off for Edwina.”

Kate ground her teeth together. _What a persistent little dickbag,_ she thought.

“Did you?” Violet asked. “Was he taking a walk?”

“No, he was waiting in the lobby actually. He said he had a meeting or something,” Mary waved the thought away, but Kate and Violet were hanging on every word. Perhaps Violet also knew that he was trying to date Edwina. “Nevertheless,” Mary continued, “I must say, Violet, that you’ve raised the loveliest children.”

Kate fought to contain a laugh.

Even Violet couldn’t take the compliment without a rueful chuckle. “That’s very kind of you Mary, but some of them can be a little… _challenging._ Even in adulthood.”

Mary eyed he daughter. “Hear, hear,” she joked.

“Mary!” Kate exclaimed in mock anger, “I’m standing right here!”

“I could have been talking about Edwina,” she said innocuously.

“As if any of us actually believes that,” Kate deadpanned, picking up her grocery bags. 

“It’s always the oldest ones,” Mary stage whispered to her friend as Kate went inside.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Violet responded.

* * *

The oldest Bridgerton son found himself in his office on Thursday evening dreading the beginning of the party. Not because he didn’t want to socialize—quite the opposite, actually. Parties were usually a welcome distraction from the stresses of his life, but this party would be the _stressor_.

Ever since the morning at city hall, Anthony had felt off-balance. Kate Sheffield was simultaneously jeopardizing the referendum and his already delicate sanity, and he had only known her four days.

He tried to nap after talking to his mother that fateful morning, but when his head hit the pillow his eyes refused to close. His mind raced through an endless cycle of images: the analyzing glint in her dark eyes, her shoulders that she always held straight and firm and the infuriating corners of her mouth that tightened when she was mad.

He tried to fight it, but his waking thoughts kept wandering back to her, and even when she wasn’t on his mind, he was brutally aware that he was fending her off. One would hope that if she haunted him in the waking hours that perhaps sleep would be a reprieve, but that was indisputably not the case.

To say that vividness of his recent dreams were equally terrifying and heavenly would be an understatement. And all the signs, all the self-loathing he felt when he woke up from a particularly maddening spell of dreams—no, nightmares—pointed to the same thing.

He wasn’t a child and didn’t need anyone to explain it to him. All-consuming lust wasn’t something that was hard to understand. 

It had been forty-eight hours of that agony, and soon she was coming to his house. It was just confirmation of the obvious: she was inescapable.

Which is why he felt exhausted on Thursday evening while trying and failing to answer several work-related emails. He had a glass of brandy next to him, partially to numb the tension in his body and partially to build up an alcoholic shield for when the guests started to arrive. Lord knew he would need it.

Not that he was planning on overindulging. He hadn’t been truly drunk in a while, and anything beyond casual drinking wasn’t very fun anymore. That coupled with the fact that it was horribly depressing to get really drunk while surrounded by your younger siblings when you were in your thirties was enough to make him monitor his intake closely. Not to mention that he would be taking the extreme risk of saying or doing something he’d regret regarding a certain someone if he got intoxicated.

But it was fine. Everything would go well. He was used to managing things, and hell, what was fourteen years of experience if not proof that he could handle it?

This optimism only held up until half after seven when the Sheffields arrived. Anthony was standing in the corner of the room when they entered the house, and the second his eyes caught on her with her shiny hair and ironic smile, he knew he had to leave immediately.

A man had to do what he needed to cope.

The only issue was that he had to somehow find a balance between avoiding Kate and finding an opening to talk to her sister when she wasn’t around. He still had to pull off the illusion that he was interested in the younger Sheffield or his mom would grow suspicious. She had been talking about the Berbrooke’s a suspicious amount lately and needed to be thrown off the scent.

An hour into the party and two hastily poured glasses of liquor later, it was still a problem. Kate was sticking to Edwina like glue and it was sending Anthony increasingly closer to the edge of sanity. It wasn’t difficult to keep track of them either— _of course it fucking wasn’t_ —because he was aware of her every move even when he wasn’t fucking looking, like some radar that was pathetically good at its job.

Even when he stood with his back to the party, pouring himself yet another drink, he knew the exact moment when she walked up behind him. The intuition was only confirmed by the potent smell of lilies and soap wafting over him. He collected himself for a minute, then took a deep breath and turned around.

“Sheffield,” he greeted in a tight voice. She looked good. Her dark hair was lovely under the warm light, and the green shade of her shirt was eye-catching on her bare skin. 

“Bridgerton,” she mimicked.

There was a beat of silence. He thought to himself that it would probably be best if he stopped staring at her, but was there a way to converse with a person without laying eyes on them?

“I need more wine,” she announced. When he couldn’t find the words to speak for an awkward moment, she pointed rudely behind him. “So move.”

Composing himself, he tutted and took the glass straight from her hand. The look on her face indicated that she didn’t like that one bit, which brightened his mood considerably. “What kind of host would I be if I didn’t pour it for you?”

“An accommodating one,” she supplied.

He swirled his brandy dramatically. “How so?”

“Because you know I’d prefer to pour it myself.”

“But we can’t let our mothers know we don’t like one another,” he reasoned. They looked over to the women in question, who were chatting at a patio table. “They’re too fond of each other to handle it.”

“Mary will survive,” Kate deadpanned.

He glanced at her. “You call your mother by her first name?” he asked with genuine curiosity. 

He must’ve caught her off guard with that question, because she blinked rapidly for a second. “She’s technically my stepmother. My biological mom died when I was three.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “I don’t really remember her. And my dad got remarried two years later, so Mary is my mom just as much. I just never got in the habit of calling her that.”

He nodded. His mom never remarried, and he couldn’t picture a universe where she would. His parents loved each other as much as two people could, and after eighteen years of marriage, the prospect of finding someone else must have been impossible to entertain. He couldn’t help but wonder if his dad died sooner, would things be different?

He turned back to her. “And your dad? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him.”

Kate’s eyes betrayed a tinge of wistfulness. “He died when I was nineteen,” she said. “It’s actually why it’s taken me so long graduate from law school. I took two years off in the middle of undergrad to be at home with Mary and Edwina. Mary was mad at me for it though,” she smiled sadly for a moment and then shook herself, as if she just realized the dark turn the conversation had taken. “Sorry, that was a lot. Maybe I don’t need another glass.”

He ignored her last statement, feeling strangely compelled to share something himself. “I tried to do the same thing when my dad died, but my mom put down a student housing deposit without telling me,” he confided.

Kate smirked. “So Violet’s a sneaky one.”

“Yes, but other than that, her and Mary seem to have a lot in common.” Of course what he meant was that the two of them had a lot in common, but he thought voicing it would be a little too on the nose.

“Yeah,” she agreed, fixing him with an appraising stare. The awareness of her expression made him feel like she could see straight into him, and past him. It was distinctly uncomfortable but over within a second.

“So,” he said, quickly turning toward the alcohol before he did something stupid. “What did you want?”

“Malbec.”

“That’s unsurprising,” he muttered, glad to be entering familiar territory again.

“And why would that be?” she questioned.

“It’s about as bitter as a red can get.”

“Dry, not bitter,” she argued.

He shot her a sideways glance, pouring the red wine high into her glass. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“Do you want me to insult your drink choices? Only top shelf brandy will do for the oldest Bridgerton boy,” she cooed.

“Hey, I like shitty rum just as much as the next person,” he protested and gave her glass back.

She took a contemplative sip. “A compelling defense. I’m sure you mix it in with the strawberry daiquiris you drink on your giant boat over there,” she nodded toward the large white boat sitting on its lift in the lake. “And as invigorating as this conversation is, I think I’m going to go get drunk with your sisters and make them talk shit about you instead.”

“As long as it’s about me,” he goaded.

A large smile grew on her lips. “You see the heels on these things, Bridgerton?” She lifted her foot up so she could see. “Mighty sharp,” she commented.

“Thank god I invested in some of those new shoes you suggested, then.”

She laughed. “You mean the ones you washed out in the creek?” His face fell instantly. After several days of cleaning it became apparent that those were ruined forever.

“Careful,” he cautioned.

Kate paid no heed to his warning. “Oh, and Newton says hi by the way,” she patted him condescendingly on the arm and turned away. “Have a good evening.”

He watched her walk away. The place on his arm where she touched him buzzed with irksome excitement. “You too,” he said, mostly to himself.

After that confusing interlude, Anthony sulked away to a lawn chair. She got the last word in—which he absolutely despised—and on top of that she proved to be as devilishly snarky as ever. She was definitely one of the more entertaining people he’d ever met; a fact which thoroughly pissed him off.

He was left alone for almost a quarter of an hour after that, trying (and failing) to focus on the dark waves of the lake and the reflection of the lights strung over the terrace when Colin and Benedict approached him.

“You’re being moodier than usual tonight,” Colin commented.

“Am I?” Anthony asked, not bothering to look at him.

His brothers shared a glance over their drinks. 

“If you don’t get off your ass and start acting like a normal human being, mom’s going to kill you.”

“She told us to tell you that,” Benedict reported.

“And what does she want me to do instead?”

“Stand, socialize, maybe even—and this is a stretch—smile?” Colin suggested.

Anthony peered at his brother for a minute. “I need more brandy.”

“Or” Benedict said as he stood up, “you could join us around the fire. If you decide to sulk you can just blame it on smoke getting in your eyes.”

Benedict, while usually an asshole, had a compelling point there.

“Fine.”

The three brothers walked over to the other side of the patio to the fire pit. Several people were already sitting around it including Eloise, Edwina, Francesca, and because God was not nor had ever been good, Kate.

There were several open seats and Anthony expertly maneuvered himself in the one adjacent to Edwina. Kate’s eyes were on him the instant he sat down. His skin practically burned with awareness, but he vowed to not look back.

He was only successful at that for about a minute. When she laughed at something Francesca said, his eyes shot to her over the licking flames. He kind of hated himself for wanting to know what she was laughing about.

“So, what’re we talking about?” Benedict said, taking a seat next to Kate.

Francesca giggled. Kate’s eyes grew mischievous. “Men,” she said nonchalantly. It would be a lie to say Anthony’s ears didn’t perk up at this.

“A worthy topic of conversation,” Benedict commented.

“If you say so.” She shot him a wry look over the rim of her wine glass and took a sip.

“Advice for my younger sister?”

“No, just telling her how relentless it is to be an older sibling. If I’m at a bar basically anywhere, some guy will approach me within five minutes of arriving, asking how to get Edwina’s number. No joke.”

Edwina, who had previously been just as quiet as Anthony, spoke up. “They’re just intimidated by you, Kate.”

“Not intimidated enough to leave me alone about you,” she grumbled.

Edwina just rolled her eyes. “Plenty of people approach you for you.”

Kate barked out a laugh, “The only men who approach me are creeps and corporate assholes, for some indiscernible reason, and their first line is always asking if I want to take a hit with them in the alley.”

Everyone laughed but Anthony sat in stony silence. It irked him that people didn’t pay Kate as much attention as Edwina. Why was he the only one that had to suffer at the hands of her obvious beauty?

Edwina shook her head. “You’re forgetting all the perfectly normal people you reject.”

Kate rolled her eyes as if to say _what people?,_ but said, “Maybe they don’t have what I want.”

“Which is…?” Colin prompted. Anthony didn’t know whether to praise him or cut him in half for that question.

Kate, who was almost certainly bordering on tipsy, didn’t seem to mind the probing question. “Charisma, seven children, a hatred for the Nazis,” she recited.

Everyone except for Anthony seemed to understand this reference because Francesca and Eloise nodded thoughtfully, while Benedict just hummed and said, “Yeah, he is hot isn’t he?”

Kate took another sip of wine and continued on boldly. “Or just a single father in general. They’re so tired all the time, it’s really very sexy,” she said to Colin. He looked incredibly amused.

Eloise raised her glass in a mock toast. “Agreed,” she declared.

“You’re 23!” Anthony interjected hotly.

“Yes Eloise,” Kate admonished, sarcasm dripping from her voice, “you must mature to a perfectly sensible 27 to date a dad. Maybe even 28.”

Anthony glared at her. “Stop putting reckless ideas in her head.”

Kate’s eyes hardened when they landed on him. The orange flames reflected in their depths and the result, he acknowledged, was haunting. “I think your grown sister can formulate her own opinions.”

“An interesting notion, coming from you, Kate,” Anthony bit out.

“I didn’t know _this_ was a thing,” Eloise muttered to someone. They shushed her.

Anthony barely paid them any attention. He was too busy engaging in a glaring contest with Kate over the flame. They sat that way for nearly ten seconds, everyone around the fire deadly silent. Whether it was from the tension in the air or sheer fascination at the exchange, he wasn’t sure.

Kate bit the corner of her lips in aggravation. They were stained an alluring shade of dark purple from the wine, and something roared possessively inside him.

The feeling spooked him. He stood abruptly. All eyes landed on him as he ground out, “I need more brandy,” and stalked away.

He didn’t actually need more; he was well on his way to breaking his vow and getting drunk, but he also didn’t give a shit anymore. All he thought about as he left was that he could feel seven pairs of eyes on the back of his head, and that he only cared about one of them.

* * *

After Anthony stormed away from the bonfire, Kate proceeded to finish another glass of wine. She hadn’t begun the night planning to get drunk, but it was certainly heading that way and she figured she could indulge a bit because Mary was driving.

Perhaps drowning herself wasn’t the best way to get rid of the charged-up restlessness she was feeling, but she couldn’t manage it any other way. Whether it was during their exchange at the bar or around the fire with his siblings, Anthony left her bursting with nervous energy that begged for an outlet. Throwing herself into drink was the quickest answer, but she had to admit there was also something else, another little thing that she wished to distract herself from: the fact that, when she entered the Bridgerton residence earlier that night and saw Anthony leaning against the wall in the corner, her mind came to terms with her body and agreed that he was just too good-looking for her to be able to ignore it anymore.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal. People were hot all the time and it didn’t interfere with Kate’s life in the slightest. For example, Colin and Benedict were both classically attractive, probably even more so, with their bright colored eyes and amiable grins, but did her pulse speed and her skin flush when they looked at her? No. Did she grow uncomfortably warm when they so much as stood nearby and stared absentmindedly out a window? Not even close.

Kate determined that it all came down to the fact that female sexuality was highly psychological. He excited her with arguments and, in turn, excited other parts of the psyche as well. Every girl wanted to get railed by someone they despised, right?

_Right?_

With the excessive amounts of alcohol going to her brain, Kate had the urge to voice that question out loud. She knew she couldn’t though, because the forum of ladies available were all related to one of them, and regardless of whether the sisters in question would respond with amusement or disgust, Kate didn’t think their answers would be very productive.

Perhaps she should befriend one of the catering managers wandering around the premises, they would probably give it to her straight. Or maybe all of it could be attributed to a self-induced dry spell. She hadn’t been on a date in two years and hadn’t had sex in three. Pent-up sexual frustration could do strange things to a person, even if she hadn’t experienced it before them.

Kate sipped the last of her wine, staring at the fire, and resolved to find some douchebag to sleep with when she went home in September. It would do her good.

“Need some more?” someone asked at her side. She looked. It was Benedict.

“No, I can get it myself. I’m getting up to go to the restroom anyway,” she said.

Colin looked over at her. “If you don’t know where it is, there’s one near the front door, second on the right side.”

Kate smiled gratefully and went on her way. She didn’t hear when Francesca turned to her brother and remarked, “Why didn’t you tell her about the closer one near the kitchen?” Colin didn’t say anything, just grinned to himself like a hyena.

Kate found the bathroom with no trouble, and when she was finished, took a moment to look at herself in the mirror. She didn’t look a mess exactly, but anyone could tell she had a few drinks in her. Her lips were purple from the Malbec and when she tried to wipe the color off, all it did was make them look a little swollen. Her hair was also becoming a bit unruly, which she tried to mitigate by sweeping it into a ponytail, but she couldn’t get rid of an awkward bump of hair made on the top of her head. She stared into the mirror for a few moments longer, at the glazed look in her eye and the drunken little smirk that was plastered to her face and turned toward the door.

She froze. There were suddenly two exits to the bathroom and she couldn’t remember which one she entered through. She stared madly at them. Why was it that one always realized the gravity of their intoxication while in the bathroom? The mystery persists.

In the end she decided, _oh fuck it,_ and opened the door on the left. She would regret this later.

On the other side of the door was an unfamiliar room. It was certainly not the foyer, but she was intrigued by the smell and the dark wood so she closed the bathroom door behind her and began to investigate.

It was a study, she decided, with papers strewn over a large desk and swiveling leather chair sitting beside it, facing some long shelves that lined the walls. She walked further into the room and sat on the chair, its back reaching far above her head, and decided to spin herself around simply because it amused her. After a couple of spins, though, she grew dizzy and slowed herself to a stop, facing away from either entrance to the room.

 _I want an office with an adjoining bathroom one day_ , she thought idly. After a long day of fucking up some oil companies she could retreat back to her office, spin her chair to her hearts content and—

One of the doors to the squeaked opened, accompanied by quick footsteps. Kate stilled in the chair, contemplating what she should do. She violated a private room in the house and that definitely wasn’t something she wanted to get caught doing without explanation, but her drunken brain also told her if she stayed still enough, the person who came in might leave again without noticing her. There was a party going on, after all, and who would really retreat in there to sulk for an extended period of time?

That question answered itself in the form of his appearance in her line of sight, walking up to the bookshelf and facing away from her.

She let out a tiny yelp, but Anthony didn’t notice her. He was too busy digging behind a tall row of musty books. When he couldn’t find whatever he was looking for he let out a frustrated growl (Kate, in her thoroughly drunken state, could freely admit that it was hot), and rubbed his eyes. He was in the middle of muttering something about how he hated Colin when he suddenly stopped short. He sniffed the air for a moment and when he uncovered his eyes, his gaze fell on her.

He didn’t immediately explode in the way she expected. Instead, he stared at her and blinked a few times as if he weren’t sure if she was a hallucination. She glanced to her lap sheepishly.

“What,” he pronounced once he gathered himself, “the _fuck_ are you doing in here?” His voice was harsh and just the slightest bit tortured.

“I was in the bathroom,” she started hesitantly, “and ended up in here.”

He processed this with a dark look. “And why are you at my desk, in my chair?” he hissed.

“It called me.” After she said it, she realized she probably shouldn’t have unless she wanted to be a victim of murder.

She didn’t die though, the only real casualty was any semblance of composure in his posture as he tightened his hands on his hips and began tapping his foot impatiently on the floor. “Why are you so dead set on invading every aspect of my life?” he demanded.

She made a face at him. _That_ was a dramatic interpretation. “Why are you so dead set on winning over Edwina?” she countered.

He took several steps forward and looked down at her. “I believe I asked you first,” he said in an icy voice, “and I also believe that I have the control in this situation.” He slapped an arm down onto one arm rests for good measure.

His intention was clearly to intimidate her, to trap her, but Kate’s body burned to act on the tantalizing proximity. Still, she braced herself and held strong, looking him directly in the eye. “So that wasn’t rhetorical question,” she bit out.

“You did this on purpose. You’re diabolical and tormenting me _on purpose._ ”

She scoffed. “You accidentally fell in a creek once when I was nearby, and I sat in your desk chair.” Her lips formed a little pout, aiming to mock him. “Poor you.”

His eyes fell on her mouth and Kate licked her lips involuntarily. Then he growled and forced his stare back up to her eyes. “It’s been less than a week and you’re exactly where I don’t want you to be exactly _when_ I don’t want you to be there. Care to explain that?”

Kate stuck out her chin. “I’m just trying to protect Edwina from getting used and disposed by you when she’s basically already engaged.”

He brought his other arm down on the opposite armrest and inched closer to her. “Funny that I never hear about him then,” he commented, his tone growing harder but the sound softer.

Kate crossed her arms, her brain unsure of what was happening and her body delightfully aware. “He’s abroad and they had an argument before he left.”

He gave a mirthless smile. “Even better for me. A long-distance fight.”

She pushed forward instinctually until their faces were a foot apart. “Take it back,” she ordered.

“Face it,” he taunted in a low voice. “Edwina is a consenting adult and can do whatever she wants. You’re just upset because you don’t want her to make the same bad choices that you made.”

An angry beast reared its head in Kate’s chest. If her hands weren’t clenched at her sides they would have been shaking. “Yes and is that so fucking wrong?” she demanded, “As if you wouldn’t do the same?”

He leaned in further so his mouth was next to her ear. A shiver raced down her spine. “No, because at least I know when I’ve lost,” he breathed.

 _That_ , she decided, _was enough._ She shoved forward and stood. He straightened and took a quick step backward, but they still stood nose to nose. Kate rounded on him, taking the offensive. She wasn’t going to sit there while he pushed her further into herself. _She_ was in charge now.

He looked alarmed by the progression but there was a strange glint of excitement in his eyes. They both knew what it was and the first to admit it would undoubtedly be the loser, so she fixed him with her most intimidating look but teased the corners of her lips up at the ends. “But do you actually know when you’ve lost?” she taunted.

He didn’t speak for a long time, his brown eyes boring into hers intensely. Even if she tried to look away, she wouldn’t have been able to; she was transfixed and something was building, the anticipation hanging heavy in the air.

Then in a quick moment, he seemed to process something. He stepped forward with clear resolve in his and said, “Yes. I do,” and suddenly Kate was being yanked into him. She distantly knew what was happening, but didn’t quite believe it escalated so quickly, so when he took her face in his hands and melded their lips harshly together, she was shocked.

She exhaled through her nose. Maybe it was a sigh of relief, or even a sigh of pleasure at the way their mouths fit too well together. Regardless, Kate exhaled through her nose and began kissing back almost immediately with equal fervor.

Desire roared through her veins and out her lungs and into the sliver of air between them. He dropped his hands to her waist and when he pulled her closer, she went gladly. Her hands pushed up to his shoulders and reached around the back of his neck, improving the angle. They kissed a fourth time. A fifth. A sixth. And with each they grew more frantic, moving their mouths together in a new position, gripping each other tighter.

Kate pulled back for a moment for air, and his lips chased after her as if he’d much rather kiss her than breathe. “Kate,” he whispered, and her stomach dropped, so she dove back in. She let out a low sigh that got muffled by their lips pulling together again, and when she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, he made a made a desperate noise. Her heart raced frantically at the sound and a warm knot in her stomach grew tighter with each passing second and subsequent kiss.

She didn’t think. She couldn’t think. And thank goodness instinct kicked in because she hadn’t made out with someone in three years. She might’ve been a little messy, but they were both a little drunk, glazed with lust and high on building heat between them.

She was skilled enough to have backed him against the bookshelf, at least, and once she had him pinned she surged forward, pushing her tongue in his mouth and slithering her hands up into his hair. The resulting moans indicated they were both incredibly pleased about that progression.

Kate didn’t know how long they stood there, profoundly invested in one another, but it was long enough to lose herself in some sort of captivating daze. When they both came up for air again and locked eyes, breathing heavily, Anthony looked like he’d just awoken from a long sleep. Kate felt the same.

“Fuck,” her voice came from nowhere, but she was sure she’d said it. He hummed in agreement and began nosing along the side of her jaw. She tilted her head along with him to allow access. His mouth then dragged slowly down her neck and he mumbled, “You always smell so good. Why do you always smell so good?”

She couldn’t answer that question even if it had registered. Her breath came out heavier than before and she felt like she was fighting for air even though her mouth was free and pointing to the ceiling.

She tightened her grip on the back of his neck and bit out his name. He pushed a knee between her legs. She rocked against it. “ _Jesus Christ,_ ” she didn’t know who said it, but it didn’t matter because suddenly she was being pushed backward, farther and farther, past the chair and into the desk. Her legs were weak like she was some sort of zombie but his grip on her lower back made her more stable.

Their lips found their way back together again, moving over one another insistently, but then the bare skin on back of her thighs scraped against the wood. For some reason, this taste of reality shocked her like a bolt of electricity.

She pulled away, startled. He didn’t understand at first and continued to kiss her, interpreting the movement as a bout of submission. He leant down to start in on her sternum, and as difficult as it was to pull away further, her body buzzing with pleasure, she found the will to take him firmly by the shoulders and push. “Wait—”

He straightened and they looked at each other. His lips were slightly swollen and his hair was messed up. Kate assumed she probably looked just as debauched. Pupils wide, he appraised her like she was an mirage, like something he didn’t believe he just had. He drank in her bare shoulders, her neck and her chest, and growing impatient she waved her hand insistently in his face.

He snapped to attention. “What? What’s wrong?”

Kate didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Whether to scream or pull him back in. She settled on none of the above. “We need to stop,” she said desperately. “I—you—you want Edwina.”

He gawked at her, and irritation boiled in her chest. “What?” she demanded.

He swallowed, then took a step forward, deciding something. “I’m a liar.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I don’t want Edwina. I was lying to you. I wanted to make you mad.”

Kate processed this very slowly. Hormones were still raging through her, and that, along with the alcohol, made her brain go fuzzy. Once her mind comprehended the words, she only grew more confused.

“Why? What the hell is wrong with you?”

He leaned toward her, almost smiling. “You make me crazy.”

Something inside her warmed but she forced her mind to stay weary. “Anthony, I don’t make you crazy. You already are.”

He neared closer and she didn’t lean away this time. “Maybe,” he hummed.

“But we don’t even like each other!” she exclaimed.

He smiled wider at that. “No, we don’t.”

“Well, I’m not going to date you!”

“I never asked you to.”

“But—”

“Can I kiss you again?” He was staring at her lips. “You can argue as much as you want while I’m kissing you again.”

Kate froze and contemplated this. A drunken hookup with Anthony Bridgerton was a bad idea. Sometimes, she nearly hated him. At the best of times, he was funny for half of a second. Also, he’d outed himself as a dirty liar and proclaimed that he never wanted Edwina. _Because of her_ , bizarrely, and there wasn’t enough time to unpack that as thoroughly as she should. 

But she had just resolved to hookup with a stranger not thirty minutes ago, just to get out her tense energy, to unwind. To enjoy something for once. And here was a perfectly good outlet, no—the perfect outlet, and a perfect chance to get him out of her system.

On top of that, she had the added excuse of alcohol for when she finally came to her senses.

An anxiety grated at her though. The fear that she wanted to do this a little more than was appropriate. That she wanted him just a tad too much.

He was still watching her, waiting patiently, and maybe calculating the best way to prop her onto the desk when she let out a breath. He looked at her expectantly, “The verdict, Sheffield?”

She glared at his nonchalance. “The verdict is that I don’t like you. I never will, and you aren’t an acceptable option for Edwina, myself, or anyone else close to me regardless of what your intentions are.”

“But—?” he prompted, correctly guessing the direction of the sentence.

She nodded. “Do your worst.” 

* * *

Relief washed over him as he basically catapulted himself at her. The flush of her cheeks, the irritated frown on her face, and her swollen lips were all so damn tempting as she argued with him that it took all his energy to stay focused on her words and not the skin of her collarbones or the way her shirt strained on her chest. But once she challenged him, goaded him with _do your worst,_ Anthony knew he’d accept nothing less than his very best; that she’d never get less than his very best.

“Do you really want to say that?” he said into her ear, as he crowded her against his desk. He felt her shiver and ran his hands possessively down her arms. When he pushed in closer still, she held straight. Desire twisted inside him. He liked that she never cowered.

He breathed in deeply against her neck. The scent of lilies and soap burned his lungs. The fact that he was finally allowed to put his lips on her was driving him crazy. And when he finally did it, tasting her warm skin again, her throat vibrated when she muttered, “I already said it, didn’t I?”

“I’ll make you change your mind,” he whispered.

She inhaled a sharp breath as he bit softly at her skin. “Do it again,” he said, this time against her lips.

“Do what again?” He brought his hand up and clutched at her chin, pulling it into a long kiss.

“I like,” he breathed, “when you sigh.”

She settled backward and pushed herself up onto his desk. He was quite frankly astonished that he didn’t have to put her there himself. Then she fixed him with this kind of mischievous stare that shot through him like a bullet and roughly pulled him toward her by the shirt—which, _holy fuck._

“Make me,” she ordered.

Even though there were minutes of proof, he still couldn’t believe that it was happening. It felt too good, too right, to be something that was real. He felt fifteen years younger again, like he was able to act on his desires for the first time but with the added benefit of knowing what he was doing.

He pushed forward and set his hands on her bare knees. She smirked at him. Then, in one swift motion, he moved each palm to settle on the top of her thighs and wrenched them apart. Her breath caught in her throat as he dug his hands into the flesh of her thighs, and then a little squeak emerged from her lips.

He surged forward, wanting to say something pithy, something that would make her look at him crossly or yell at him, but instead their lips found one another with a new fervor. They kissed relentlessly, coming up for breath every once in a while and diving back down, her hands raking fiercely down his scalp, and his pushing into the intoxicating curves of her torso, down her sides, and around her hips. 

He moaned into her mouth and couldn’t even bring himself to be embarrassed about it. She responded in turn by hooking her knees around him and letting out another small noise of satisfaction.

Without thinking, his hands attached to the small of her back and he dug his hips into her, all sense of self-preservation out the window. She bit down softly on his lower lip and rocked back upward, seeking friction. Desire flared through him with unstoppable force, and with one hand snaking around her waist, the other wrenched up to the back of her head. “Take this out,” he order, pulling at the long smooth locks that were tied together with a hairband. She nodded as he focused in on her jaw again, mouthing the soft curve up to her ear. A second later, her hair was free and the scent of lilies, already potent, came sweeping over him.

One of his hand bunched and tangled into it, trying to relish how luxurious, how _everything_ she was, and the other one snaked up the front of her shirt. She arched a little, like she wanted him to touch her there, and held one palm down on the desk for support and muttered curses next to his ear.

His mind raced with questions. Could he sneak her up to his room? Would she go if he asked? Would it be better to have her here, on his desk, flat on her back with her hair spilling out over his things? Was he ruined for everyone else because of this? Because he hadn’t wanted something, someone, so much in his life.

Maybe that was overdramatic. Maybe it wasn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to care as he brought his lips to the neckline of her shirt, around it, and back up again.

“Anthony,” she murmured. Her voice was weak and shaky, and he wanted to die right there.

“Hmm?” He whispered and brought one of his hands to her chest. She rocked forward again, one arm still propping her up. “ _Fuck_.” _It should be illegal for someone to feel this good,_ he thought.

“Do you want to—" she started, then stopped herself. “What is this?” she said in a very different voice.

“What is what?” He muttered as he sucked on the juncture of her jaw and neck and relishing the weight of her in his hands.

“This,” she leaned back shooed him away with one hand, pushing a paper around with the hand that was fixed on the desk. “Is this,” she scanned the document quickly, “…a petition?”

He knew which paper she was talking about, but hadn’t the slightest why she would care, so he shrugged it off. “Does it matter?”

She turned away from him and gathered the papers in both hands. “Yes, it matters. I thought—” she started, but then noticed he was still pressed between her legs. She frowned and pushed him backwards, jumping off the desk. He put up no resistance, ignoring the sinking feeling in his gut. “—I thought that this was all a lie.”

“Thought what was a lie?”

“What Edwina said about you being interested in a municipal vote,” she stared down at the petitions in her hands, eyes blank. “I thought it was just a lie to get alone time with her.”

She must be crazy. She still thought he wanted to date Edwina after all of that? “I just told you that I was never interested in Edwina,” he gestured to the papers that had been messed up during their…activities. “in multiple ways.”

She didn’t follow his gaze. Instead she stared at him and asked sin a firm voice, “Are you organizing a petition for a referendum vote?”

“Yes,” he admitted easily. 

“And that’s why you’ve been sneaking off to my sister’s office on Monday and Wednesday? Because you need her and the municipal clerk to process your paperwork?”

“Yes,” he repeated.

She assessed him for a minute, disturbingly like a colleague, and much less like someone who’d been dry humping him only two minutes before. “What’s the referendum?”

 _She really cut straight to it, didn’t she?_ Was that something they taught you how to do in law school or something she was naturally endowed with?

“It’s unimportant, and kind of complicated, actually.”

She stepped forward. “Try me.”

There was a beat of silence and then a low sigh. “I can’t.”

She didn’t falter for a second; just spun around and leaned over the desk, leafing through the paperwork. “Kate, please stop going through my desk,” he groaned.

“Then stop acting like you have something to hide!” she snapped over her shoulder. 

“I don’t—I’m not trying to hide anything from the town!” he argued. “It’s all transparent and very legal, I just don’t want my family finding out.”

This got her attention instantly. She spun back around. “Why?” she asked, her voice hard.

“Because it’s a personal matter,” he countered evenly.

“And why are your personal matters so relevant to public ordinances?” Anthony felt his face fall. She must have relished in the look of shock on his face. Lawyers loved to do that. “And another question, why are you involving my sister in this?”

“Because it’s her job,” he supplied lamely. They were both very aware that he didn’t answer the first question.

She rolled her eyes and turned away from him, going back to the desk. She searched through the papers for another ten seconds before she stopped. “Aha I found it!” She held the document triumphantly in her hand and began to read.

“Kate,” he pleaded. “It’s honestly nothing.”

She scanned the words. Her eyes narrowed. And then—

“You want to abolish _bee farming_ in the city _?_ ”

“The town doesn’t have any laws published on it right now,” he shrugged.

Kate fixed him with a hard look. “And you want to make it illegal. For personal reasons.”

This sent him scrambling. “I mean not really personal reasons; I just don’t think it’s very safe for the community if the bees are—”

“Unsafe?” She cut in, her face incredulous. “What the hell are you talking about? Bees aren’t unsafe. They’re good for the environment.” He just stared at her blankly. “For god’s sake Anthony, they help the economy by pollinating the crops!”

“Why do you care so much?” he demanded.

She let out a long, angry breath through her nose and shut her eyes. “I got my J.D. to practice _environmental law_ , you asshole _.”_

He blinked as embarrassment set over him. “Oh.”

“Just tell me the real reason for this corruption and I’ll leave it alone.” A lie. They both knew better than that, so what was the point?

Instead, he just groaned and raked his hands through his hair. “I’m too drunk for this right now, Kate—”

“You weren’t too drunk to try to fuck me on your stupid desk,” she argued.

He paused. “That’s different.”

“Oh, is it?” she returned sarcastically, even though she was flushing. “What a great reason, I’ll just walk my little feet out the door and never question you again. Or better yet,” she laughed humorlessly, “I’ll get back up on the desk and we can continue.”

“You’re taking this too far. It’s not important.”

“Then tell me why,” she repeated.

He looked at her, baffled as to why she was still fighting this. “Do you not trust me?”

She guffawed and maybe it hurt just a little. “Trust you? Come on, Bridgerton you must be smarter than that, you’re a CSO—wait,” she stopped.

A horrible feeling grew inside him and he started toward her, but she dodged him, retreating to the other side of the room. “No, it’s not what you think!”

“Oh isn’t it?” she said icily. “What a coincidence that the chief security officer of a manufacturing company that employs almost one third of the goddamn locals has a vested interest in the environmental laws!”

He groaned. “Kate, I swear to God that I would never—”

“What’s going on here, Anthony? Did your company get acquired by someone that manufactures honey? Did you merge with one of those fucking Chapstick companies that uses beeswax?”

“We make _medical devices for_ _amputees_!” he exclaimed.

She ignored that. “After this passes what are you going to do next, huh? Make sure the farmland gets sold to an oil company?” The look in her eye was crazed, but he could tell she didn’t care in the slightest. She thundered on, her voice growing delirious. “Bust your worker’s trade union? Block the landowner’s coalition?”

“—Kate—”

“Stage a fucking coup in Bolivia for lithium?” she screeched.

“Do you honestly believe that?” he shouted back. “Do you really think I’m some fucking sci-fi movie villain?!”

“I think you’re up to something unethical,” she asserted.

“I promise you that I’m not.”

“Then _tell me_.” She leaned forward and threw the papers on the table.

“And why is it any of your business?” He asked, abandoning denial for his own attack.

“Because you’re trying to bring my sister into it,” she said astutely. “You bloody her hands, and you mess with me.”

Anthony dismissed this with a condescending snort. It was sure to make her want to scream. “Edwina has the right to support or not support whatever cause she wants. I just want her and the clerk to sign the papers to help push it through onto the ballot.”

“You don’t even live here _,_ Bridgerton! It’s a summer house!”

“Legally I do,” he shot back. It was true. He changed his permanent address a year and a half before, in preparation for the referendum.

“Christ, that’s what has this whole thing with Edwina has been? You’ve been pretending to be interested in her to me and your family so they won’t find out about your—” she searched for the words, “fucking bee thing?”

“Glad you finally caught up, Sheffield,” he proclaimed.

She growled. “And what of the people who know about your bee petition? The people on these lists who see you hanging around Edwina at these parties? What will they think of her?”

The world moved slowly for a second, and then her words crashed down on him. Comprehension dawned and his heart sank to his gut. “ _Shit_ ,” he whispered.

Kate charged on, but Anthony didn’t need her to continue. He knew what she was going to say. He knew how much he screwed up. “They’ll think she’s acting on orders from you because you’re involved. They’ll call her a—”

“Oh my God,” he put his face in his hands and collapsed in his chair. “I didn’t think of that, I promise. It was just a stupid idea that I came up with on the spot at the country club. I swear it wasn’t on purpose. I’ll fix this,” he vowed, meeting her eyes again.

“You know what? I’m not even surprised.” Her voice was humorless. She didn’t taunt or smirk at him, just stared in quiet assessment. 

“Kate—” he tried.

“No,” she continued, “It all makes sense now. You didn’t realize you were jeopardizing Edwina’s career because you were too busy thinking of yourself and your personal matters _._ Your personal matters that seemingly come before the welfare of the entire community. Your selfish _personal matters_ that you irresponsibly wield your wealth and influence over this town to manage.”

“I don’t know what else I can say! I’m sorry. I’ll fix this,” he repeated for the third time.

“How?”

“I’ll never approach Edwina like that again. I’ll make it clear to her, my mom, and whoever else—"

“Will you step away from all this petition bullshit?”

There was something building up behind her eyes that he knew he was about to crush. “No. I won’t,” he responded.

“Then I won’t forgive you.”

Anger boiled in his chest. “I don’t recall asking for it.”

“Have you no shame? Have you no moral compass? Do you care about anyone that’s not yourself?” she spat.

“Yes, my family. And that’s why I am keeping this from them.”

“You talk so much about family this and family that, but one thing you consistently fail to consider is that nearly everyone has a family.” She paused, but when she spoke again her voice was dangerously calm. “What would you do if someone jeopardized the career of one of your sisters?” she questioned with deadly accuracy. “I thought you, of all people, would have the mind to think about that, but apparently I’ve made a misjudgment.”

His voice, in stark comparison to hers, was strangled with hostility. “You have no right to preach your self-righteous bullshit. You have no idea what this is about!”

She shot him a withering glare. “Oh?”

“Leave,” he ordered and pointed at the door. Down on his desk, her hairband mingled with the other evidence of their misdeeds. “And take this while you’re at it.” He threw it and it landed on the ground in front of her.

She bent down slowly and picked it up. She stared at him, angry tears edging in the corners of her brown eyes and swept her hair back up. She looked just the same as before, as if nothing ever happened. Then she straightened her shoulders and turned to the door, but when her hand touched the nob, her face slid to the side. He could see her profile as she clenched her teeth. “Stay away from me,” she seethed.

Anthony was smart enough to know that particular request would be impossible to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zoinks


	4. Chapter 4

When she woke up on Friday morning, Kate tried to convince herself that it had all been a bad dream—the alcohol, the kissing, the yelling, the truth—and that she could chalk it up to a feverish nightmare or drunken hallucination, but there was just too much evidence.

For one, she had a slight headache. She would freely admit that was simply what happened when you were twenty-seven and had more than four glasses of wine, but she knew none of it would have ever happened if she’d stuck to only two.

Another damning piece of evidence came in the form of her aching scalp. She purposefully hadn’t taken her hair down before she went to bed—As a symbol? To prove a point to herself? God only knew— and she pulled it so relentlessly tight that the soreness sat like a shameful cap on the top of her head, which was maybe a little too on the nose for her liking.

The third and most disturbing piece of evidence came in the form of a small bruise on the back of her thigh. Mary noticed it when they got home the night before and Kate had to pretend like she didn’t know exactly when she got it. Had to pretend that the moment she rammed backwards into _his_ desk wasn’t stained into her memory forever.

With these lingering reminders smudging her pride, she stood up and prescribed herself a shower, some food, and a shot of caffeine. Then she decided she would go to the public library and hide among the stacks, playing the role of someone who hadn’t made several large mistakes the night before.

Thankfully, Mary was already milling around the shop downstairs when she got up. Her mom knew something was up the moment Kate begged her to leave the party early, faking sickness from the alcohol. On their way out, Mary asked her if she was sure nothing else was wrong. Kate just tightened the corners of her eyes and nodded in response. It was enough to warrant their immediate departure.

Kate was also relieved that it was a Friday. Edwina would surely be banging down her door otherwise, begging for a response to her frequent text messages. It served Edwina right though, because she never responded to Kate’s barrage of messages after something important happened.

Freshly out of the shower, Kate picked up Newton to sit in her lap at the table as she ate some eggs. She even fed him a couple pieces from her fingers because she needed his weight on her as an anchor and it was the only way to settle him long enough for a proper cuddle.

Her phone buzzed on the table. She ignored it. It buzzed again and Newton stood in her lap and barked at it.

It buzzed a third time.

“ _Shut up!”_ she shouted at it. Newton barked along with her.

With the fourth buzz, Kate sighed and reached for her phone. Why was everyone so goddamn persistent? She should be the only one allowed to be this persistent.

The lock screen displayed four messages from Edwina.

_How are you feeling this morning?_

_Do you want to go golfing with me tomorrow? It’ll be fun!_

_I know you don’t want to talk about it, but can you please tell me where you disappeared to last night? When you came back it looked like you’d been hit by a truck._

_Come on Kate I know you’re on your phone. Please just answer me._

Kate took an weary bite of eggs and placed Newton down on the floor. Then she picked up her phone and typed:

_im hungover and suspicious of ur golfing idea. also you are correct in that i walked out of the house into the middle of the street and waited for a truck to hit me and once one did I rose from the dead like our Lord Jesus Christ and reentered the party with a renewed appreciation for life._

Edwina, a fucking liar who definitely checked her messages at work despite her frequent claims that she didn’t, wrote back almost immediately. _You are impossible._ And then _why? you like to golf._

Kate responded just as quickly. _I am incorrigible. Golf is ur means to interrogate._

Edwina read the message, and Kate watched the ‘…’ appear and disappear several times before her sister decided to give up and say nothing.

Pleased with her superior avoidance tactics, Kate finished breakfast and headed to the library. She snuck past Mary on her way out the door and power walked along the sidewalk as she checked her weather app for storm warnings. Once she knew she was in the clear on _that_ front she was able to breathe a little easier.

She was making her way past the futon store that definitely peddled heroin to the public when a sudden thought occurred to her: If the bee farming abolition were a business scheme orchestrated by the company Anthony worked for—and surely it must be, because why else would he be so adamant that his family not find out? —then she should be able to figure it out. She _would_ figure it out, and when she proved it to Edwina, she would foil his plans and everything would be as it should be.

It would make up for her previous transgressions with him and put him in his rightful place: firmly and properly away from herself and Edwina.

Kate sped the remaining distance to the library with newfound resolve and settled at a dusty table in the middle of the reading room. She meant to review for her exam, but instead she took out her laptop and hunched over her keyboard. If she were going to find anything, it would take intense googling and maybe even some tried and true LinkedIn stalking to get the job done.

Two and a half hours passed and the study book stayed closed. She searched the company website, business journals, union documents, the digital archive of local and nearby newspapers, environmental impact reports and even examined his every LinkedIn connection to find some tie to honey distributors and still came up short. There was nothing. No acquisitions or mergers, no shady environmental practices (although they weren’t _stellar_ ), no nasty union negotiations, and no raw materials secured by disrupting foreign governments. They didn’t even headquarter the company out of state to avoid taxes!

It was quite possibly one of the most boring companies she’d ever had to read about, which was miraculous considering that any business who made a profit selling necessities to people who were ill or disabled was on shaky ground in her book.

When she reached that dead end, she switched tactics and searched for any businesses in the county that used bee-byproducts and still couldn’t find a single thing. The only vaguely compelling information were things she already knew. Violet mentioned a buy-out from a similar prosthetics company that doubled the number of employees. It happened six years before, and even that company had barely any dirt on them.

It was only after this that Kate resigned herself to studying, vowing to return to the matter once she figured out a new way to get information. She packed up her things and left the library to get a sandwich several hours after.

She was sitting by herself, eating a turkey sub and scrolling through Instagram when the ambush occurred.

“Kate! How are you?”

She jumped in her seat at the sound of the sudden greeting and looked up to find Colin standing at the foot of the table holding two large carry-out bags. His sharp green eyes were trained down on her and he wore the same expression he always wore—an amiable and deceptively innocent smirk.

“Oh hi,” she blinked up at him. “I’m good. How are you?”

“Excellent. I just got a small lunch for myself.”

She eyed the bags. “Small. Of course.”

He ignored that. “So where did you run off to last night? You left the bonfire and never came back. Not even to say goodbye.” She swore she saw an accusatory glint in his eye.

“I think I drank a little too much,” she confided smoothly. “I had Mary take me home because I felt sick.”

“I’m glad the hangover wasn’t bad, because you look perfectly fine right now.” If his first statement wasn’t accusatory, that one certainly was, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of growing flustered. The only way anyone was ever going to find out about what happened at the party was over her thoroughly mangled dead body.

She gave him a tight smile. “Me too.”

“So are you going golfing with us tomorrow?”

Her eyebrows shot up. Us? Who was _us?_ “I told Edwina I’d think about it.”

“You need to come. Eloise was going to play but something came up with grad school and she can’t make it tomorrow. And everyone else is busy.”

She shook her head a little. “I haven’t been to a driving range, much less a course in years—”

“You don’t need to worry,” he interrupted. “We don’t play golf in the boring way; we play in the fun way.”

She had to admit that this statement was slightly intriguing. “The fun way?” she prompted.

He shrugged playfully. “You’ll just have to see for yourself.”

If she knew for a fact that _he_ wouldn’t be there she would accept immediately, but she couldn’t figure out a way to discreetly ask who else would be joining them. If she did, he would instantly become suspicious. But Colin, while ornery, was also a great and willing source of information, and goodness knew information was exactly what she needed.

She peered at him thoughtfully. “Is there a reason you want me to go so badly? Surely there must be someone else.” Kate also knew she had to be cautious. It wouldn’t be the first time Colin tried to meddle where _he_ was concerned and she had to make sure to account for this possibility.

“To be honest, my sister Daphne and her fiancé are coming up tomorrow because she just finished teaching summer school, and she loves to play. Also, Eloise has been blabbing to her about you and Edwina all week and she would like to meet you.”

Kate suspicions dropped. “Oh. That’s sweet of her.” Colin grinned slowly, prompting her to speak again. “I...suppose I can play then.”

He broke into a bright smile. “Great, I’ll see you tomorrow at the country club. Tee off is at eleven.”

At eleven, nobody was there. Well, not anyone she was looking for anyway. People were everywhere—riding around on golf carts, walking past the front fountain and into the clubhouse, lugging bags of golf clubs behind them—and it actually made her feel a little insecure sitting on the edge of the fountain in her baseball hat and dirty tennis shoes. She wasn’t glamorous or elegant and she wasn’t interested in pretending to be, but Edwina would fit right in. Kate clearly didn’t belong there and no one spared her a glance long enough to notice.

She checked the weather. Clear. She checked her messages. Nothing. Same as it had been several minutes before. No one changed the meeting time or place, and she hadn’t had communication with Edwina since the night before when she confirmed that she would show up.

Another car pulled into the parking lot and Kate poked her head up expectantly. The individual that got out of the car was presumably with her party but he was by himself. Her stomach filled with a sick mixture of dread and anger. So much for _stay away from me_ , she thought wryly.

When Anthony pulled his clubs onto his bag and spotted her, his expression grew tense. He clearly didn’t expect her to be there, and Kate was relieved that the arrangement wasn’t his doing, at least.

When he got close he asked, “Where is everyone?” in lieu of a greeting.

“Aren’t you staying in the same house as more than half of them?”

“I had an errand to run. Colin said to meet them here at eleven,” he glanced at his watch impatiently, “and it’s eleven.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” she said dryly. Kate was tempted to prompt him with ‘ _errand, huh?’_ but decided against it. To make the afternoon as painless as possible she knew she had to be on her best behavior.

He sat down on the fountain ledge several feet away from her. She was glad for the space and assumed that he noticed her discomfort or felt some himself. Then he glanced down at his phone and presumably texted Colin. A moment later he looked at her and announced, “My brother is a douchebag.”

“Is that breaking news to you?”

He smiled at that. “No, but I think we’ve been set up for the second time. He said, _oh no I must have told you and Kate the wrong time by accident. Be there in twenty.”_

“I was really blessed with the best sibling in the world,” Kate said thoughtfully. “Edwina would fall over dead before pulling shit like that.”

“I was cursed with the most annoying,” he muttered.

She gave him a skeptical look. “Your sisters seem lovely.”

He dismissed this with an eyeroll. “One of them has crashed a golf cart into this fountain at least once for the past _six_ years.”

She chuckled ruefully, entirely forgetting that she was supposed to be mad at him. “Tradeoffs, Bridgerton.”

They sat quietly for another minute watching people and golf carts go by, but an uneasy feeling was still building in her gut. The longer they avoided it, the worse the tension would get, but she didn’t want to be the one to start the conversation. What she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and roll away like an armadillo, but that wasn’t advisable with the parking lot so nearby.

As if reading her mind, Anthony’s voice broke into her thoughts. “I want to say sorry again. For the Edwina thing.” She looked over at him but he kept staring forward. “I told my mom that there was truly nothing going on between us and that she has a boyfriend, and so she backed off on her matchmaking. And I also told Edwina we should conduct the paperwork remotely from now on.”

Kate didn’t know what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. It was far too reasonable. “Thank you—?” she said, her voice stunted in surprise.

“I won’t apologize for the referendum, though. I need to do what I need to do.”

“I expected as much.”

“Are you going to tell my mom?” he asked quickly. “Or Mary?”

She let and irritated sigh out through her nose. “No, you’ll be happy to hear I’ve done some digging and can’t find a single reason why your company wants you to do this.”

She expected his expression to flood with relief but when she met his eyes he looked sincere and a little hurt. His eyes trained on her intently. “Because they aren’t telling me to. I do an honest job.”

For a split second she felt guilty. Was she judging him too harshly? Jumping to conclusions? She couldn’t think about it very thoroughly because he surprised her with another statement. “You should come with me.”

Kate brain stopped. “What? Go with you where?”

“To the bee farm. Well, not really to the bee farm. I’m going to the house next door on Wednesday. They want to work something out. And if you come you can personally ensure everything is good and legal. Like a chaperone.”

“Like an unofficial notary,” she corrected.

He made an irritated face. “Sure.”

She pretended to think about it for awhile even though there was really nothing at all to think about at all. She wanted to go and listen and figure out what was going on so she could submit the proof to Edwina at city hall, and in the off chance that he was telling the truth, at least she’d know for sure.

“Yes. I’ll go.”

He processed this slowly as if he didn’t expect her to be so willing, but then he looked at her right in the eye and said, “Good. I’ll come get you at ten.”

“But—”

He shook his head. “Just let me, Sheffield.”

She accepted this with a frown. She could very well drive her own car to a fucking bee farm. _Men…_

“Should—should we talk about the other thing?” he asked. Her eyebrows shot up in alarm and he registered her look with quick regret. “Never mind, forget I said anything,” he blurted and then invested himself in needlessly adjusting his bag of golf clubs.

“No, it’s okay,” she assured. “I think that whole thing can be attributed to mutual,” she chose her words carefully, “…misjudgment from intoxication.”

He stilled. “But you said you weren’t drunk enough to not argue with me.”

“It doesn’t matter what I said!” she protested a little too loudly. He raised his arms in surrender. “All that matters,” she continued with more composure, “is the truth.”

“And what’s the truth?”

“That I was too drunk to remember most of it,” she said primly.

It was a bald-faced lie, of course, and unfortunately he had the perceptiveness to recognize that. “You keep telling yourself that,” he muttered. 

“Oh, and you remember everything?” she retorted.

“Yes,” he leaned in and leveled her with a superior smirk, “in detail.” Kate felt her throat closing, her cheeks flushing at the memory of the last time they were that position, but she held firm. She wasn’t bending her back for him, not again _._

“Why do you insist on being such an asshole?”

“Why do you insist on being a liar?” he mimicked.

“A moral opposition to lying? How interesting coming from you!” she mused.

“I’m not arguing with you. I just think it takes one to know one,” he said patronizingly.

Her eyes narrowed to slits as she leaned toward him. “And what does that mean?”

He shot her one of his devastating smiles, all white teeth and velvety eyes, and her chest clenched uncomfortably. Then, he reached out to nudge her knee with two of his fingers and said, “That you’re just as guilty as I am.”

Her breath caught in her throat and her lungs burned with anger. There he went again, always trying to gain the upper hand. But two could play at that game.

She looked up at him through her lashes and smiled lightly. “It’s funny that you mention the word _guilty_ ,” she took a lock from her ponytail and twisted her finger into it. Her body burned with satisfaction when his eyes followed the motion. “Because, from my very limited memory, someone who enjoys being pushed around as much as you would probably have a lot to say on the concept.”

She watched in rapture as his mouth dropped open. He struggled for words for a few seconds, but eventually bit out, “What do you mean by that?”

“Anthony Bridgerton, do you have a shame kink?” An entire barrage of emotions flooded his face. Shock, anger, excitement, amusement, and most importantly, desire. She relished in triumph for a moment and rocked in place wanting to push him further when—

“Kate, you’re here early— _oh_.”

They burst apart, and Kate felt all her blood rush to her cheeks. “Edwina!” she exclaimed in a far too high-pitched voice. “You’re finally here!”

Edwina tried to keep her expression blank, but an amused smile crept to her lips. “What are you talking about? It’s 11:15, I’m early. How long have you been here?”

“Not long,” Kate invented, “but Colin told us the wrong time, right Anthony?” She glanced over to the Bridgerton in question who seemed to be dealing with some sort of internal crisis.

His head perked up but his eyes were dazed. “Uh yeah, Colin sucks.”

Kate nodded vigorously in agreement.

“Well then, I should go off to the clubhouse to rent some clubs.” Edwina began to speed away. “You two can wait here and—”

“No!” Kate shot up. “I need some too.”

Edwina looked at her with knowing eyes. Her expression said _don’t you need a minute?_ But Kate willfully ignored it.

Edwina smirked, “then lead the way.”

* * *

Anthony was still recovering from her by the timed they teed off. 

Stupid Kate Sheffield and her stupid ability to be funny and cute and _stupidly_ hot all the time. It was honestly just obnoxious how the world seemed to dangle her in front of him and then pull her away like he was a pathetic little cat. She certainly wasn't the one doing the dangling—except for whatever unfolded in front of the fountain, which— _deep breaths_. In fact, she seemed to believe he was just as bad of a person as she did before she barged out of his office. She thought he was involved in some idiotic corporate ploy to kill the bees or something, and had gone as far as to research about it. 

Thankfully, she did seem to be discouraged by his invitation to the Berbrooke's house on Wednesday. Or at least it looked like she might have believed him when he said he was honest about his work. Their was a flicker of trust in her eyes which was more than he thought he'd ever get out of her. That coupled with the look of shock on her face after he told her about what he'd done to fix the Edwina situation almost made him feel like he had half-made up for his massive fuck up. And it wasn't even that hard. 

Edwina was more than receptive to his email about going remote and his mother was almost suspiciously okay with his confession that Edwina was taken. She just pursed her lips and said, _there are a lot of other lovely young women out there._ He didn't even have to tell his siblings or even Colin. They didn't give a shit, and Anthony was aware that was probably because any interaction he had with Edwina was probably the least compelling thing to happen to anyone all day. 

Kate, however—he tried very hard not to think about the fact that he would like to run his lips up the insides of her long legs as she stood on the golf course—was cruelly compelling. 

“Okay, so we’ll play only the back nine, but there’s a catch.” Colin announced to the five of them.

Anthony snuck another glance in her direction. She slid her eyes to the side. They both looked away.

“We play each hole for speed.”

Edwina raised her hand warily. “What does that mean?”

Daphne, who had always been bossier than she appeared, cut in. “Everyone takes their first shot down the fairway, and once the last person goes, you’re free to put any ball into the hole as long as you reach it first. Once you sink your putt, the first person to the next hole gets the most points.”

Kate shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Anthony’s eyes snapped to her involuntarily. “Don’t you want low scores in golf?” she asked.

“Yes, but—” Daphne started.

“You want points in our version,” Colin interrupted.

Daphne glared at him. “Yes, and you get double if you’re the first to make it back to the clubhouse at the end.”

Simon looked at the two of them in disgust. “We have to race to each hole with our clubs on our backs? I thought golf was supposed to be a leisurely game.”

“No, honey, that’s what the golf carts are for,” Daphne assured.

Anthony grimaced. It has been almost a year, and he still wasn’t used to the fact that his younger sister was getting married to his college friend.

Of the newcomers, Simon was the least surprised about their golf rules; he was used to their Bridgerton antics. The two Sheffield’s seemed to have opposite reactions.

“So essentially we are going to be racing golf carts between rounds and fighting for the ball that lands closest to each hole? Will that not disturb the other golfers?” Edwina asked.

“Some choose to go for the ball that is not the closest. The furthest person takes their turn first,” Daphne said, ignoring her second question. 

Kate nodded approvingly. “That’s a good rule.”

Anthony looked at her sharply. “I made it up.”

“How humble of a proclamation,” she snorted.

Edwina raised her hand again. “No one answered my questions about the golf carts?”

Kate patted her sister consolingly on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, we can share. And I’ll drive,” she said. 

Three voices burst out in protest:

“Oh, no you won’t!”

“That’s cheating!”

“No teams!”

All three of them were from Bridgertons.

Kate shot a glare at each of them. “The three of you are so sportsmanlike.”

“It’s in our blood,” Colin confirmed.

With the rules explained and questions (mostly) fully answered, the six of them gathered their golf clubs and set off toward the ninth hole. Although the course was relatively busy that day, they didn’t have to wait to for their turn, and they hopped out of their respective carts and took out their drivers.

They decided the oldest would go first, so Simon stepped up to the tee and did a few practice swings. Satisfied with the warmup, he angled himself in front the ball, wound his arm up, and took a big swing. The ball drove straight down the fairway in the direction of the hole but veered off to the left at the last minute because of the breeze.

“Excellent job, Simon,” Daphne clapped. “I’ll make sure to go straight for your ball once Edwina takes her turn.”

Simon just smiled and rolled his eyes. “Of course you will, dear.”

“My turn,” Anthony barked.

He made sure to take his time warming up because he was getting old and worried about throwing his shoulder out, but Daphne took it as an act of arrogance. “He’s a loser that plays way more than the rest of us,” she muttered. “Always trying to show off and hit the closest ball, even though I beat him to it half the time.”

He heard a light chuckle and stiffened. Even though he wasn’t looking, he knew it was Kate. Daphne had taken an instant liking to her and seemed to be making an effort to socialize with her and Edwina at every opportunity. It was profoundly troubling to say the least. 

“Not if I run you over with my golf cart,” he threatened, lining up with the tee.

Daphne tutted. “So eager to commit vehicular manslaughter, Anthony.” Kate laughed again. He wanted to turn and yell at them but he was too far along in his swing ritual to stop, so resolved to flip both of them off later.

Finally he relaxed himself and took a swing, but in the process of being distracted by his sister and Kate, he forgot to account for the wind and ended in a similar spot to Hastings.

Colin went after that. He overcorrected for the wind, sending his ball into the rough on the right side. Daphne took her shot, a drive straight down the middle that didn’t have quite as much power as she wanted, but she was happy with it nonetheless.

Kate stepped up to the tee next and lined herself up. As he watched, Anthony noted that her stance was unconventional _._ She bent a little too far over, and her feet were placed farther apart than he would have advised. Her right hand was also too low on the club, but when she wound up with a short backswing and snapped her arms down and hips to the side with a _thwap_ the ball shot in line drive down the dead center, flying over the fairway, the green, and past the hole.

The six of them stared in awe as it disappeared somewhere into the edge of the trees on the opposite end.

Simon looked at her. “What the hell was that?”

Kate peered into the trees. “I hit it as hard as I could, I think I just overestimated.”

“You think?” Colin laughed.

Daphne squinted into the distance, “I have no idea where that one landed. How did you learn to hit so far?”

She stepped away from the tee and leaned her palm against the top of the driver, trading places with Edwina. “My dad had me in hockey until I was fourteen, but I decided to focus on soccer in high school. I wasn’t aggressive enough for it,” she explained.

Anthony couldn’t contain his snort. “I doubt that was the problem.”

She glared at him. “I’d like to see how you’d handle getting checked into the boards constantly, Bridgerton.”

“I’d handle it brilliantly,” he returned.

She fixed him with a penetrating look. Her eyes glinted under the shade of her hat. “I bet you would,” she said pointedly.

He had to ignore her after that for fear of flushing.

If anyone noticed the tension in the exchange, no one said anything. “Well, regardless of how close it was, it was a good shot, Kate. This course is way too small anyway,” Hastings said.

“You should see my slapshot,” she snickered.

“It’s terrifying,” Edwina supplied in a bored voice, still trying to figure out how to hold her club.

After another minute or two Edwina finally wound up her swing. She missed the tee completely. After a couple more tries, she finally hit it and the ball flew in a high curve that dropped on the ground 100 feet away. It was by far the furthest away from the hole, even with the ball that Kate dramatically overshot, and when the group hurried to their golf carts, Edwina resignedly called dibs on her own ball.

“Edwina, I can take yours for the first hole. Until you get used to it,” Kate offered.

Once again, this resulted in an eruption of protests from the three Bridgerton siblings, proclaiming that no one was allowed to be in cahoots. Although Edwina didn’t seem like she would’ve taken the help anyway.

“Don’t worry about me, Kate. You go run off to find a good ball,” she shot her sister a good-faith smile.

Kate, who was already situated in her cart, just nodded and hit the gas.

The five of them raced down the fairway, although Simon was less enthusiastic about making sure to reach a well-placed ball. Anthony had a good head start on everyone else, but his cart was slower than normal, so Daphne rode past him with a triumphant jeer. He pressed harder on the gas. Colin was also gaining on him, and purposefully cutting across the fairway at an angle to intercept before Anthony could reach his golf ball. 

Kate was thankfully still far behind due to her insistence to offer Edwina help, so she wasn’t proving to be a problem for him just yet. Anthony also assumed that with her inability to judge distances and with her need to reign in the hockey swing, that she would also be bad at putting. He glanced behind him and saw that she was staring ahead in intense concentration, heading for Colin’s ball on the right.

Turning back toward his destination, Anthony noticed that Colin’s angling tactic was working and that his younger brother was getting closer to his ball.

He scowled and pressed on the gas even harder, which miraculously gave the cart gave an extra kick of speed. Five feet away, he jumped out while it was practically still rolling, and started toward his golf ball. Colin was off his cart too, diving dramatically on the ground to get closer, but in the end the older Bridgerton sprinted forward and proudly planted his foot on the ball, staking his claim.

Colin shot him a nasty glare from the ground and picked himself up, starting in on Kate who was circling his ball with her golf cart. Anthony watched as his brother made another attempt at a dive, only for Kate to expertly trip him at the last second. Anthony laughed as she stood over Colin with a grin on her face. “This is only the beginning of my revenge,” she vowed darkly to him.

Colin, who was still laying across the manicured grass on his belly, looked up at her innocently. “Whatever for?” he asked.

She glanced at Anthony for a moment who was watching the exchange with glee. Colin deserved every bit of punishment he got for his meddling. “I think you know what.” 

Colin just shrugged the comment off and pulled himself up. “I’m glad to know you two can manage equal hostility,” he jabbed at her, then set off for Daphne’s ball next. Kate watched him leave, affronted.

On Colin’s way past him, Anthony taunted, “Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

His brother just laughed openly. “Wait until she does it to you,” he warned.

In the end, Daphne claimed Simon’s ball, Simon ended up with Kate’s, and Colin managed to procure Daphne’s while Edwina edged along the fairway with her own. They each took their turns in order of farthest away for several rounds, and even though Simon had been cursed with the second farthest ball, he still managed to sink his first.

“You’re doing amazing, honey!” Daphne called from her spot on the green, to which Anthony, Colin and Kate protested heartily and accused them of having an alliance.

“He’s my fiancé! And cheering for someone doesn’t mean they’re in an alliance.”

Simon, for his credit, had already disappeared onto the next hole to claim his points and couldn’t defend himself.

“Marriage means nothing on the course,” Anthony scowled.

Daphne scoffed. “Just wait until your wife joins us for a round.”

Colin shook his head and peered at Kate. “I think he’ll treat her terribly on the course when the time comes.”

Anthony suppressed the urge to beat him with his putter. He might’ve done it too if the damn thing hadn’t cost several hundred dollars.

They continued with the short game, and Daphne struggled with putting while Colin, who was sitting further away (though not as far as Edwina), had yet to make it far into the green.

Kate was doing better than Anthony expected, maybe a stroke behind him, but he was still the next to get his ball into the hole. Once it sunk, he grabbed the ball and began running back to his golf cart.

Kate focused intensely on her putt and miraculously sank hers a second later. She sprinted for her own cart, calling out “you’d better kick up the speed on your cart, Bridgerton, or I’ll beat you to the tenth.”

He stole a glance at her, still jogging with his putter and made a sharp turn in the direction of her cart. “What the fuck are you—” she started, but his intentions soon became clear because he came upon her golf bag and promptly pushed her clubs to the ground, scattering them haphazardly over the grass.

Then came an unintelligible shriek. Her vocal cords were actually kind of impressive once he thought about it. Not everyone could sound that much like a banshee. 

He retreated quickly back to his own cart and started it up, ignoring, shouts of “So help me fucking god, Anthony! You’ll pay for this.”

He just laughed maniacally, and when he passed her on the way to the next hole he slowed for a moment. She was kneeling on the ground, gathering her clubs as quickly as she could. “See you at the tenth hole,” he sneered. 

As he sped off he caught the beginning of a growl emerging from her mouth, and the image of Colin turning to Daphne and saying “See?”

* * *

Despite his efforts to slow her down, Kate arrived at the next hole only shortly after Anthony did.

She jumped out of her golf cart and rounded on him. He looked unbothered by the image of her barging toward him, but Simon, who was standing by his side, looked around in alarm.

She planted her herself in front of him and exhaled angrily through her nose. “I am going to _end you,_ ” she hissed. He just laughed in her face and rolled his eyes. “I’d like to watch you try.”

She did not end him any time soon.

In fact, she played miserably for the next couple of holes. For the life of her she couldn’t wrangle in her drives, and the more she putted the worse and worse she got. Daphne, recovered from her bad first round, arrived first to the eleventh hole, and Anthony to the twelfth. Two hours later, while they raced from the seventeenth to the eighteenth, Kate still had yet to reach a hole first or second and was beginning to realize that she had absolutely no chance of winning.

She was still seething with anger from him knocking over her clubs as sabotage, and in the process of trying to think of the best way to thwart him, she became too distracted to perform well. Colin at least got revenge on Anthony by making him have to take a ball that landed in a sand trap, and Kate had a lovely time watching him scowl as he hit at the sand relentlessly with the club.

When the six of them set up at the last hole, Daphne reminded the group that making it first to the clubhouse yielded double the points so they should make it count. Kate thought she was talking out of her ass though, because she was neck in neck with Anthony for first with Simon and Colin not far behind, according to the score sheet. Neither Kate nor Edwina needed to make the round count.

The four eldest took their turns, with Simon and Colin landing their respective golf balls impressively on the edge of the green while the other two Bridgertons landed theirs just short of it, edging near the water hazard.

Kate took a deep breath and stepped up to take her last drive. She adjusted her shoulders and feet the way she’d observed the more experienced golfers do it and took a quick practice swing.

“Do you really even need to do this?” Anthony asked. “You barely have 30 points while the rest of are nearing 40.” 

“Do you really even need to exist?” she spat.

Colin and Daphne choked on their laughter. Simon and Edwina, who were proving to be much less competitive about Bridgerton golf and were thus disinterested in the antics of the other four, just rolled their eyes.

“Is that another threat, Sheffield? Don’t you already have one on the table that you have yet to carry out? A promise to end me?” he taunted.

“Yes,” she snapped. “I will end your life by drowning you in the water hazard.”

“That’s uncreative, even for you.”

Daphne turned to him. “Will you shut up and let her take her turn? I have a game to win and I’d like to do it before dinner.”

“Thank you, Daphne,” Kate said and finally lined herself up with the tee. Kate noted that the breeze had subsided.

“You’re not much better, Kate,” Daphne muttered, but Kate was too focused to hear her. She wound her arms into a sharp backswing, and when her club came down on the ball, it emitted a satisfying _crack._ The six of them watched as the ball speeded into an impressive arc and began to fall. It kept falling for another few seconds and landed sharply in the middle of the green, less than 20 feet from the hole.

“Holy shit,” someone said. Kate didn’t know who because she was too pleased with herself to look away from the fairway.

Edwina stepped up behind her. “Nice job, Kate.”

Kate smiled back at her sister. “Thank you, it seems like my ball has become quite the commodity.” She hazarded a look in the direction of the other four. Simon was staring boredly in the direction of the trees while Daphne and Colin were gawking at the ball, calculating the best way to access it the fastest. Anthony just watched her moodily. She shot him a mocking grin.

Edwina took her final turn, and even her ball seemed to get farther than it normally did, shooting two-thirds of the way down the fairway and rolling a little off to the right.

For a second, everybody looked at each other. Eyes moved quickly and stances tightened, and in the blink of an eye they scattered toward their golf carts, running as fast as they could.

Kate was thankful she parked hers so close to the start because she reached her cart first and jumped in, taking off in front of everyone else. She lead the charge in a beeline toward the ball. Anthony and Colin were close behind, shouting obscenities and trying to pass her, but it was no use. Kate held her ground and cut at the perfect angle toward the center of the green.

As she got closer, triumph built in her gut. It was _her_ ball and _her_ stroke that got it there, and even though there was no chance she could win, she could reach the ball first, sink it, and race her way back to the club, victorious. And even better, if she were the one who got her ball, that meant _he_ wasn’t.

She pushed the cart as fast as it could go, but for some reason the brothers kept gaining on her. She snuck a glance back toward them and found that Anthony managed a maneuver that pushed his cart in front of Colin and positioned himself almost beside her.

“How in the fuck—?” she muttered to herself and made an attempt to block his angle with a quick turn. He let out an angry noise that she still managed to hear over the rev of the engine and the cries from behind them.

Nearing closer and closer, Kate realized that she had the advantage with her angle. As long as she kept him at bay she could reach the ball first, jump off her cart, and claim it with the bottom of her foot. But as the opportunity presented itself, she found herself faltering.

Even if she got her ball and reached the clubhouse first he could still come back second. And if he managed that, she was sure he would still win the entire game and lord it over her for the rest of his existence. She had to find another way to foil him, and as they came within five feet of the ball and he practically lunged out of the moving vehicle, abandoning his clubs, Kate knew exactly how.

She slowed to a halt in her cart and watched as Anthony landed on the ground with a thud. He gathered himself quickly and reached a triumphant foot onto the golf ball. She stood slowly and lifted her bag of clubs to her back.

He looked up to her in victorious rapture and started shouting, “I got it! You can’t best me, Kate, and you never will!”

Daphne and Colin pulled up in their golf carts beside them and miserably took in the scene before them. “Dammit!” Daphne exclaimed. “I was hoping you would beat him here, Kate.”

Colin shook his head in disappointment. “Anthony doesn’t deserve a win like this.”

Kate ignored both of them and took a sneaky step toward Anthony’s golf cart. No one paid attention to her. They were too busy dwelling over the fate of her ball.

With a quick motion she swung her bag of clubs over her shoulder a set it in the passenger seat next to his. Then she rounded the front of the golf cart and looked down at Anthony who was still laying on the ground with his foot on the ball.

“Have fun playing this round without your clubs,” she said.

He glanced up at her “My lucky clubs? What are you talking about?”

But he was too late. She was already in the driver’s seat of his cart and jamming the identical key into the ignition. She sped off with a loud rev of the engine and circled around the three siblings triumphantly.

Anthony scrambled to his feet and watched in horror as she rounded the green. Daphne and Colin looked on in shock.

“I thought I made it pretty clear, Bridgerton,” she sang. Then she stopped the cart next to him for a dramatic moment before saying “you can’t win the game if you don’t have your golf clubs.”

He charged forward but she was too quick, kicking the gas and propelling forward with a high-pitched squeal that certainly wrecked the grass. She cackled madly as she sped away and relished in the memory of murderous look on his face, the wind blowing her hair dramatically behind her.

As she raced back in the direction of the country club, she passed Simon and Edwina who were still strolling down the fairway. Each of them gave her a look like she’d gone insane, but she kept laughing. She was riding to victory in the best way she could.

A minute later she noticed a fleet of three golf carts were following a couple hundred feet behind her. She knew it must be the three Bridgerton siblings, so sped a little faster on the tarmac path toward the club and tried to maintain her lead.

A couple minutes went by, and Kate found herself surrounded by more and more people. Couples walking in and out of the country club, and even normal street pedestrians kept her from zooming as fast as she could toward the main building. She kept her speed high but didn’t try weaving through and past people. When the front of the country club was in sight, she got stuck behind a particularly slow couple coming back from the tennis courts.

She looked nervously backward. All three siblings had gained on her enough that she could see their faces. Anthony led the group on what was presumably her old cart, and Kate noticed that none of the siblings were being overly mindful of the pedestrians and other club members. In fact, when people saw them, they purposely moved far out of the way, as if they had seen this sight before and experienced the consequences. 

The closer she got to the front, the closer he got to her, and Kate realized that because she upended the last hole, the race to the country club was for all the marbles. She couldn’t lose. She had to destroy him.

Kate pulled into the circular driveway, zoomed past the valet and headed toward the line of golf carts sitting wedged between the fountain and the parking lot. Anthony was hot on her tail, and competitive anger roared inside her.

“Give it up, Bridgerton. I’ve won!” she shouted.

“No you won’t!” he barked.

Then she noticed a shortcut she could take to her victory: a slim edge of space between the fountain and the line of carts. She turned sharply and aimed for the space. She heard him do the same behind her. At the last minute though, a large jut in the fountain appeared in front of her. She spun the wheel frantically to avoid it and nearly clipped the side.

She slipped past it and was just about to let out a sigh of relief when she heard a sudden crash behind her. She pounded the breaks and spun around in her seat.

Anthony attempted the same last-minute maneuver and failed. He avoided colliding with the fountain head-on, and instead shaved it on the side, but the impact was still great enough to have launched him out of the cart and halfway into the fountain on his knees. 

* * *

When Anthony found himself on his knees in another body of water, he knew he didn’t have anyone to blame but himself. He would still outwardly blame Kate for her incessant evildoing, or hell, he would still blame the entire accident on her, but deep down he knew that this was self-inflicted.

If he hadn’t been riled so easily, if he’s just kept his cool as she made her getaway and borrowed Hastings’ or Colin’s clubs instead, he wouldn’t have ended up there in the bright blue water on aching legs.

He winced and got to his feet. People were staring, and his siblings had jumped out of their carts to examine the damage, but no one was helping. Perhaps they knew it was his fault too. Maybe all the observers and passerby knew that he’d chased after a woman on a golf cart like an utter madman and hadn’t been able to control himself enough to not crash into the country club fountain.

Maybe they simply recognized he was a Bridgerton and thought he had it coming. That year would be the seventh year in a row that one of them crashed into the fountain on a golf cart, but Anthony never thought he would be the perpetrator.

He took back what he thought earlier. It was all her fault. Kate Sheffield, her infuriatingly nice face and her penchant for grand theft golf cart drove him batshit.

And sure enough, the moment he lifted his eyes, he saw her. _Of course she’s the first one here,_ he thought darkly. Her hand covered her mouth in shock but there was an amusement hidden in her warm eyes. She was close enough to see that he was fine, that he could stand, and with her feet on the firm ground and his in chlorinated water, she began to laugh. Loudly.

“Oh my god,” she managed through gasps, doubled over as if in pain. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” He didn’t know what kind of face he made because there was a strange game of tug of war going on inside him. One half of him clenched pleasantly at the sight of her in such joy and the other half was simply murderous. 

“Here,” she offered her hand as he made movements to step out of the fountain, and he gripped her wrist. He liked how his hand could curl around it so easily. That it was slim and strong; something he could grasp and not worry he'd break.

They pulled him out onto the pavement and his feet stained the concrete with water. “Why is it that whenever we are together outside, I always end up ruining my shoes?” he asked.

She gaped at him. His tone was conversational, and surely she was expecting much worse, but she recovered quickly enough. “Maybe it’s the world’s way of telling you that all your shoes are ugly?”

He was about to spit back a retort when Colin and Daphne ran up beside them. The pair looked at them for a second. Awareness washed over him and Anthony dropped her wrist. 

“I think this means Kate wins,” Daphne announced with glee.

“I win?” Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh man, I win!” she raised her arms in the air and did a little victory dance.

“You did not win!” he snapped.

“But I got there first and you fell into the fountain,” she argued “Certainly that constitutes a victory of some kind.”

Colin nodded in agreement. “Kate realized that the real victory was making you miserable along the way. And that is what being a Bridgerton is all about.”

Kate beamed at him.

“But does this mean Anthony is the loser?” Daphne hummed.

Colin considered this. “Definitely,” he decided.

For a moment Anthony indulged in the fantasy of hitting his brother upside the head with a golf club, but a voice brought him back to reality.

“I’m honored,” Kate grinned at each of them. “I’ll hold the title with pride.”

“As you should,” Daphne agreed. “But you know what, I think we need to do this every year! Make a tradition of it.”

Colin nodded vigorously in agreement. “This has been the best game of golf we’ve ever had.”

Anthony let out a loud _hmmph_ sound, but he didn’t disagree.

_Every year?_ They had known the Sheffield’s for barely one week and would depart from town in another, and his siblings were already making her an unofficial member of their family and creating traditions with her? A nausea overcame him. If he had to deal with her for the rest of his goddamn life, he would have to reexamine it existentially. It would simply be too much.

He snuck another glance in her direction. She was smiling radiantly at his siblings and the vision made his tense up. Again. He silently hoped that wouldn't be a frequent occurrence. 

“I think you’re right,” she agreed.

No, it was already too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever since the pandemic began I’ve wanted to play golf (the side effects of isolation are terrifying) but then they demolished the course near my parent’s house so maybe this chapter is compensation for that crushed dream??
> 
> Anyway, every person that belongs to that country club hates the Bridgertons with their entire souls but they don't get kicked out bc Violet gives the club so much money.


End file.
